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BX  4827  .R36  A3  1832 
Reinhard,  Franz  Volkmar, 

1753-1812, 
Memoirs  and  confessions  of 


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MEMOIRS 


AND 


CONFESSIONS 


OP 


FRANCIS  VOLKMAR  REINHARD,  S.  T.  D. 

> 

COURT  PREACHER  AT  DRESDEN. 


1 

FROM      THE      GERMAN 


BY  OLIVER    A.    TAYLOR, 

Resident  Licentiate,  Theological  Seminary,  Andover. 


BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED    BY    PEIRCE    AND    PARKER, 
No.  9  Cornhill. 
NEW    YORK  :~H.  C.  SLEIGHT. 

Clinton  Hall. 

1832. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1832,  by  Piirck  & 
Parkkr,  in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  Massachusetts. 


PREFACE. 


The  first  object  of  this  work  is  to  make  the  public 
acquainted  with  the  life  and  character  of  the  learned, 
pious,  and  eloquent  F.  V.  Reinhard  of  the  last  genera- 
tion, for  more  than  twenty  years  Chief-Court  Preacher 
at  Dresden.  It  is  divided  into  two  parts.  The  first  com- 
prises his  letters  or  confessions,  in  which  he  gives  an  ac- 
count of  his  education  for  the  sacred  ministry,  and  a  gen- 
eral criticism  of  his  sermons.  These  letters  were  occa- 
sioned by  a  review  of  some  of  his  works  in  the  Hall.  Lit. 
Zeit.,  and  written  during  the  winter  evenings  of  ]  809-10. 
They  have  passed  through  several  editions,  of  which,  how- 
ever, I  have  seen  only  the  first.  While  translating  Rein- 
hard's  Plan  of  the  Founder  of  Christianity,  I  became 
much  interested  in  these  letters  ;  and  deeming  them  an 
excellent  piece  of  autobiography,  I  thought  they  would 
constitute  an  acceptable  present  to  the  public  ;  and  having 
consulted  a  friend,  upon  whose  judgment  I  relied,  who 
had  also  read  them,  and  ascertained  the  coincidence  of 
his  views  with  ray  own  in  these  respects,  1  prepared  them 
for  the  press.     In  the  mean  time,  I  felt  the  lieed  of  mak- 


IV  PREFACE. 

ing  some  additions  to  them  by  way  of  completing  the  view 
they  give  of  their  author ;  and  hence,  added  the  memoirs 
or  second  part.  The  translation  of  the  confessions  was 
not  a  difficult  task,  but  the  second  part  has  cost  me  much 
and  severe  labor.  It  has  been  drawn  chiefly  from  Botti- 
ger's  Delineation  of  Reinhard's  Character  ;  a  pamphlet 
rich  in  materials,  but  written  by  an  antiquary  in  an  intricate, 
parenthetical  style  and  full  of  learned  allusions.  It  con- 
tains matter,  however,  drawn  from  other  sources,  interwo- 
ven with  ideas  of  my  own,  the  whole  of  which  has  been 
arranged  in  the  order  which  struck  me  as  the  best.*  The 
likeness  which  accompanies  the  volume  was  originally 
taken  from  a  portrait  of  Reinhard,  drawn  three  years  before 
his  death,  by  his  brother-in-law  Von  Charpentier.  This 
portrait  was  considered  an  excellent  one.  It  supposes 
Reinhard  to  be  sitting  in  his  study.  With  one  hand  he 
sustains  his  head,  while  with  the  other  resting  on  the  Bible, 
he  holds  a  manuscript,  containing  a  train  of  thought  de- 
duced from  the  Scriptures,  in  meditating  upon  which,  the 
light  of  faith  bursts  in  upon  his  mind,  and  he  is  supposed 
to  exclaim,  "  Yea,  thou  art  the  truth."  The  look  in  the 
original  is  said  to  be  very  striking  and  destitute  of  all 
ambiguity.  Much  of  its  expressiveness  was  lost  in  the 
first  process  of  reducing  the   portrait  and  engraving  it. 

I  am  aware  that  the  work  will,  after  all,  furnish  but  an 
imperfect  account  of  Reinhard ;  especially  so,  as  all  the 
biographies  which  have  been  written  of  him  in  Germany,  are 
more  or  less  imperfect,  time  enough  not  having  yetelapsed 
to  permit  many  of  his  letters,  directed  as  they  were,  to  per- 
sons still  on  the  theatre  of  action,  to  be  brought  from  their 

*  Perhaps  the  reader  should  be  informed,  that  I  have  not  reduced  the  del-. 
lars  named  in  the  course  of  the  work,  to  our  own  currency  y  and  hence,  th^t 
\liey  express  a  httle  too  much. 


PREFACE.  V 

hiding-places,  Fi  om  what  is  said,  however,  the  reader  will 
readily  perceive,  thai  Reinhard  was  no  ordinary  personage. 
Few  liave  been  more  respected  or  useful  in  life,  or  more 
sincerely  and  universally  lam>ented  in  death.  The  news 
of  his  decease  clad  old  and  young  with  mourning,  and 
called  forth  spontaneous  expressions  of  sorrow  from  almost 
every  quarter.  He  appears  to  have  been  equally  con- 
spicuous as  a  scholar,  philosopher  and  Christian.  He  had 
no  deformities  or  excrescences  of  any  kind.  He  was  well 
proportioned  in  every  part,  and  constituted  a  harmonious 
whole.  On  prying  into  his  character,  we  meet  with  no 
disappointment,  nothing  offensive.  The  more  we  exam- 
ine it,  the  more  we  find  to  admire.  To  develop  such  a 
chajacter  unable  as  we  are  to  penetrate  the  sacred  inte- 
rior of  the  mind,  and  forced  to  content  ourselves  with  its 
external  phenomena,  is,  of  course  though  desirable,  a  dif- 
ficult task.  It  is  delightful,  however,  amidst  the  pain  and 
disgust  felt  by  every  reader  of  biography,  on  discovering 
in  its  most  exalted  characters,  unanticipated  fauhs  and  de- 
fects, to  find  here  and  there  one,  which  we  can  contem- 
plate with  pleasure,  and  examine  with  satisfaction,  con- 
stantlv  cheered  with  new  beauties  and  excellencies,  and 
assured  of  something  superior  beyond. 

My  sole  object,  however,  in  this  work,  is  not  to  make 
the  public  acquainted  with  Reinhard's  character.  From 
his  confessions  I  fondly  hope  for  some  beheficial  results  to 
the  cause  of  truth.  Not  that  the  views  expressed  in  the 
ninth  letter,  which  excited  such  commotion  among  Ra- 
tionalists and  others  in  Germany  on  the  first  appearance 
of  this  work,  are  new  to  our  country  me  i.  The  two  prin- 
ciples there  laid  down  have  long  been  looked  upon  to  a 
greater  or  less  degree  by  Evangelical  Christians  among 
us,  as  the  only  ones  in  the  case  to  which  a  consistent  think- 
er can  resort,  as  a  third  does  not  exist ;  and  to  reason  as 

*1 


VI  PREFACE. 

Tzscliirner  has  done,  (see  Note,  p.  64,)  is,  as  Reinhard 
justly  remarks  in  a  letter  to  Politz,  a  petitio  elenchi,  the 
contents  of  the  Bible  having  nothing  to  do  with  the  ques- 
tion. I  refer  to  the  main  object  for  which  these  letters 
were  written  by  Reinhard ;  which  was,  by  pointing  out 
the  excellencies  and  defects  of  his  own  education,  and  by 
various  hints,  to  show  young  candidates  for  the  sacred  min- 
istry, the  course  they  should  take  in  pr&paring  for  it,  as 
well  as  after  they  have  entered  upon  the  performance  of 
its  duties.  Coming  as  these  letters  do,  from  one  of  the 
most  distinguished  preachers  of  his  age,  they  must  be  de- 
serving of  attention  in  this  respect.  Will  not  some,  on 
reading  what  is  said  in  the  sixth  letter  about  eloquence, 
discover,  tliat  they  have  hitherto  had  wrong  conceptions 
of  it,  and  been  unable  even  to  define  it  ?  Will  they  not 
be  compelled  to  admit,  that  they  have  often  spoken  in 
tones  of  thunder,  when  they  should  have  spoken  in  tones 
of  sympathy  and  tenderness;  and  by  their  manner  excited 
strong  suspicions  of  hypocrisy,  when  they  thought  them- 
selves exliibiting  the  strongest  proofs  of  sincerity  ?  Will 
not  some,  on  reading  what  Reinhard  says  about  the  study 
of  the  p;;ets,  find  they  have  almost  entirely  neglected  it, 
and  hence,  failed  to  use  the  best  means  possible,  for  cuhi- 
vating  susceptibility  of  emotion,  without  which,  genuine 
eloquence  cannot  exist  ?  And  may  I  not  hope,  that  they 
will  hereafter  follow  his  example,  and  apply  themselves  to 
Milton,  Shakespeare,  Cowper,  and  even  the  imperfect  Eng- 
lish translation  of  Klopstock's  Messiah  ? — a  work,  which 
by  its  spirit  throws  more  light  upon  some  passages  of  the 
Gospels,  than  half  the  commentaries  which  have  ever 
been  written.  And  may  not  some  when  they  read  what 
Reinhard  says  of  the  importance  of  general  literature  to  a 
preacher  of  the  Gospel,  find  that  they  are  quite  deficient 


PREFACE.  VU 

in  this  respect  ?   Those  upon  whom  this  work  produces  any- 
such  effects,  will  soon  perceive,  that  liitle  time  enough  is  al- 
lowed the  young  disciple  for  a  preparatory  course,  and  that 
all  systematic  study  should  not  be  brought  to  a  close,  as  it 
too  generally  is,  as  soon  as  a  man  is  comfortably  setded  in 
the  ministry.     I  hope  that  the  motives  which  have  dictated 
these  remarks,  will  not  be  misapprehended.    That  they  are 
well  founded,  those  who  reflect  upon  the  subject,  will,  I  fear, 
find  too  much  reason  to  believe.    I  know  the  ambassador  of 
the  cross  is  not  at  liberty  to  turn  aside  into  the  field  of  litera- 
ture, to  pluck  a  single  useless  flower.     With  every  branch 
of  study,  however,  which  bears  upon  the  business  intrusted 
to  his  hands,  qualifies  him   to  a  greater  or  less  degree,  for 
detecting  the  sophisms  upon   which   error  is  founded,  and 
enables  him  to  trace  the  truth  back  through  nature  up  to 
nature's  God,  he  should  be   intimately  acquainted.     No 
matter  how  ardent  his  imagination  may  be,  or   acute  his 
reasoning  powers.     The   greater  his  genius  in  these  re- 
spects, the   more  necessary   is  it  for  him  to  have  a  thor- 
ough training,   lest,  through  ignorance   of  the    history  of 
other  men's  thoughts,  he  suppose  himself  peculiarly  favor- 
ed of  heaven,  and  become  a  dangerous  fanatic.     There 
is  no  possibility  of  a  minister's  being  too  skilful  in  reason- 
ing, or  in  detecting  the  movements  of  the  heart.     Chris- 
tianity addresses  itself  to  the  noblest  faculties  of  the   hu- 
man soul,   and  unlike  every  other  religion,  challenges  the 
most  thorough  and  extensive  investigation  ;  and  in  no  oth- 
er way  than  by  a  constant  exercise  of  all  the  faculties  of 
the  mind  in  seeking  truth   and   practising  it,  can  one  be 
suitably  qualified  to  act  as  a  negociator  between  God  and 
man.     Amidst  the  glorious  revivals  with   which   we  are 
blessed,  is  there  no  danger  of  our  degenerating  in  this  re- 
spect from  our  fathers,  those  giant  minds  and  rigid  student* 
of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries  ?     But  I  tread 


Vni  PREFACE. 

on  sacred  ground  and  am  entering  a  field  wide  and  allur- 
ing, which  I  must  not  venture  to  explore. 

Tlie  Lord  grant,  that  the  light  of  truth  may  beam  forth, 
until  Atheism  and  infidelity,  which  fade  away  before  it 
like  dew  before  the  sun,  are  banished  from  the  earth,  and 
Jesus  Christ  is  worshipped  as  the  God  of  the  universe. 

Oliver  A.  Taylor. 

Andover,  Theological  Seminary,  March  l^th,  1832i 


CONTENTS. 


PART  I. 

LETTER  I. 

Page. 
Apology  for  these  letters — Object  of  them — Reasons  which  induced  the 
author  to  publish  so  many  sermons  5 13 

LETTER  II. 

Early  education — Instructed  by  his  father — Becomes  attached  to  well- 
arranged  sermons — Learns  the  ancient  languages — Fond  of  poetry, 
but  destitute  of  good  poets — Gets  hold  of  Haller3  -        -        -        17 

LETTER  III. 

Father  dies — Goes  to  Regensburg  or  Ratisbon— Gets  hold  of  other 
poets — Notice  of  his  instructors — Account  of  his  studies — Admires 
Cicero — Reads  French  and  Italian  works — JN^akes  verses  j        -        -        21 

LETTER    IV. 

Answers  the  questions,  why  he  did  not  read  sermons  for  personal  edi- 
fication, or  ministerial  improvement — Remains  at  Regensburg  as 
auditor — Connexion  with  Prof.  Grimm — Acquires  a  deep  relish  for 
the  Crusian  philosophy  5  --.-----'27 

LETTER  V. 

Goes  to  Wittemberg — Resolves  to  devote  himself  to  the  ministry — 
Applies  closely  to  the  most  important  studies — Hears  Schrockh  on 
church  history — Reads  Saurin's  Passion  Sermons— Concludes  to  re- 
main and  prepare  himself  for  teaching  5  .        -        ,        ,        »        31 


X  CONTENTS. 

LETTER   V  I. 

Points  out  the  defects  of  his  education — Exculpates  himself  for  them 
in  part — Warns  young- students  against  them — Means  by  which  he 
provided  for  their  remedy — Fine  description  of  eloquence,  &C.3       -        36 

LETTER  VII. 

Prepares  for  teaching — Lectures — Becomes  Professor  Extraordinary 
of  Philosophy,  Professor  Ordinary  of  Theology,  and  Provost  of  the 
Castle  Church — Passes  through  a  painful  struggle  with  doubts — Pre- 
served from  skepticism  by  respect  for  the  Bible  and  for  morality — 
The  effect  of  all  this  on  his  ministerial  education  5    -        -        -        -        45 

LETTER  VIII. 

Becomes  a  Pastor — Ministerial  habits — Complains  of  his  memory — 
No  imitator — Wrote  very  methodically — His  first  sermons  quite  de- 
fective— Ought  to  have  read  and  studied  the  best  masters  ;       -        -        52 

LETTER  IX. 

Chooses  to  speak  of  his  creed — Began  preaching  in  limes  of  great  re- 
ligious controversy — was  censured  by  some,  apologized  for,  by 
others,  for  adhering  to  Orthodoxy — Very  much  pained  by  the  latter 
— How  he  arrived  at  his  religious  views — Early  saw  the  necessity  of 
adhering  entirely  to  reason,  or  entirely  to  revelation — Those  follow- 
ing a  middle  course,  involved  in  uncertainty — Knew  not  what  they 
were  about — Felt  himself  obliged  to  adhere  entirely  to  revelation — 
Welcomes  truth  however  from  all  quarters — A  belief  in  revelation 
favorable  to  reason  and  effect— The  grand  cause  of  his  adhei'ence 
to  the  Gospel,  his  need  of  a  Saviour — Solemn  conclusion^        -        -        59 

LETTER  X. 

• 

His  mode  of  proceeding  in  the  invention  and  choice  of  themes— Need 
of  philosophy,  &c.- — Of  variet}' — Common-place-book  of  subjects — 
Mode  of  examining  historical  texts — Must  throw  ourselves  back 
into  the  age — Kinds  of  knowledge  requisite — Illustrations — Aids — 
Didactic  texts — Different  kinds  of  them — Mode  of  treatment — Illus- 
trations— Must  conceive  ourselves  in  tlie  circumstances  in  which 
these  texts  were  written  }------•-        72 

LET  TER  XI. 

Manv  object  to  the  logical  arrangement  of  sermons — Answered — 
The  arrangement  should  not  be  concealed^Points  out  faulty  ar- 
rangements in  his  sermons — Warns  young  preachers  against  too 
great  attention  to  arrangement — A  gainst  uniformity  of  arrangement ;    -    86 


CONTENTS.  Xl 

LETTER    XII. 

Speaks  of  the  composition  of  his  Sermons— Their  defects— Not  adapt- 
ed to  country  congregations— Examples— Difference  of  ancient  and 
modern  eloquence— Has  used  some  figures  of  speech  too  often- 
Failed  of  easy  transitions- Of  a  correct  use  of  pronouns— Criticisms 
— Of  publishing  a  selection  of  his  Sermons }  -        -        -        -        95 


PART   II. 


I.  Last  Sickness  and  Death ; 105 

II.  His  youth  and  education ; -     113 

III.  At  Wittemberg ;  as  a  teacher ;  his  mode  of  holding  exercises  with 

the  students,  and  habits  of  life  5 117 

IV.  At  Dresden ;  as  a  preacher,  examiner  of  candidates  for  the  sacred 

ministry,  as  an  author,  and  superintendent  of  schools ;  -        130 

V.  General  character,  habits  of  life  and  domestic  qualities,  with  notices 

of  his  wives,  and  concluding  remarks ;  .        -        -        -        148 


ERRATA. 


Page  34th,  30th  line,  dele  s  from  preparations. 
Page  67th,  last  line,  dele  every. 
Page  131st,  13th  line  for  do,  read  no. 
Page  149, 19th  line,  dele  upon. 


CONFE  SSIONS,     &c. 


PART     I. 


LETTE  R    I  . 

Apology  for  these  letters — Object  of  them — Reasons  which  induced  the  author 

to  publish  so  many  sermons. 

My  Dear  Friend — 

You  in  reality,  then,  take  no  offence  at  the  number  of 
my  printed  sermons,  amounting  as  they  do,  to  about  thirty 
volumes.     On  the  other  hand,  you  wish  to  know  by  what 
means  I  have  been  enabled  to  produce  so  many  worth 
perusal,   and   for  this  purpose,   request  me  to  give  you  a 
minute  account  of  the  education  I  received,  preparatory 
to  becoming  a  minister  of  the  Gospel.     I  will  comply  with 
your  request,  but  in  such  a  manner,  that  what  I  impart  to 
you,   may  also  be   given  to  the  public.     Indeed,  you  do 
not  wish  to  confine  my  confessions,  in  this  respect,  to  your- 
self.    You  naturally  expect  to  find  many  things  in  what  I 
say  to  you,  which  will  be  useful  to  those  just  entering  up- 
on the  ministry,   serve  to  guard   them  against  various  er- 
rors, and  be  of  advantage  to  them  in  many  ways.     I  will 
not  deny  that  this  may  be  the  case.     It  is  impossible  for 
me  to  make  such  disclosures  as  you  expect  from  me,  with- 
out taking  notice  of  the  great  defects  of  my  homiletical  ed- 
ucation, and  acknowledging  the  errors  into  which  I  have 
fallen  ; — without  honestly  telling  you  what  there  is  in  my 
sermons  deserving  of  censure,  and  why  I  have  not  been 
able  to  approximate  nearer  to  the  perfect  pattern  of  a  ser- 
mon which  lies  in  my  mind.    If  I  do  so,  from  the  account, 
2 


14  LETTER    I. 

young  preachers  will,  of  course,  be  able  to  draw  much 
valuable  instruction.  At  least,  it  will  not  be  mv  fault,  if 
those  who  take  my  sermons  for  patterns,  imitate  the  very 
things  which  they  ought  to  avoid. 

But,  while  I  readily  admit  that  the  information  you  de- 
sire of  me,  may  be  of  general  use,  I  must  confess  it  is  not 
without  struggles  that  I  have  brought  myself  to  comply 
with  your  wishes.  It  is  difficult,  nay,  almost  impossible, 
to  say  much  of  one's  self,  especially  before  the  world, 
without  exciting  a  suspicion  in  the  minds  of  people,  that 
one  thinks  himself  of  great  importance,  and  imagines  him- 
self and  his  little  affairs  worth  the  notice  of  tlie  public. 
You  know  me  loo  well  not  to  pronounce  me  entirely  free 
from  every  thing  of  the  kind  ;  but  will  others,  less  ac- 
quainted with  me,  do  the  same  ?  Will  not  the  whole  thing 
appear  to  be  the  result  of  vanity  and  arrogance,  and  high- 
ly deserving  reprehension  ? 

You  do  not  require  me,  however,  to  do  what  so  many 
excellent  men  have  done  respecting  themselves  in  a  man- 
ner which  met  with  the  a[)probation  of  almost  every  read- 
er,— to  give  a  minute  account  of  my  whole  life.  In  my 
confessions  to  you,  therefore,  I  shall  touch  upon  those  cir- 
cumstances merely,  which  may  have  exerted  an  influence 
upon  my  education  as  ,a  minister  of  the  Gospel.  Every 
thing  that  does  not  properly  belong  to  this  subject,  every 
thing  that  is  disconnected  with  the  business  and  science  of 
preaching,  or  at  most,  seems  calculated  to  excite  a  suspi- 
cion of  my  aiming  at  vain  glory,  I  shall  pass  over  in  silence. 
You  must  be  satisfied  then,  if,  in  the  series  of  letters  I 
write  to  you,  you  receive  an  account  of  the  manner  in 
which  I  became  a  preacher,  and  an  impartial  criticism  of 
my  own  sermons.  "  Geratur,"  in  the  words  of  a  man 
with  whom  I  know  not  that  I  am  worthy  of  any  other  com- 
parison, let  me  say,  "  Geratur  tibi  mos,  quoniam  me  non 
ingenii  praedicatorem  esse  vis,  sed  laboris  mei."* 

You  must  expect  nothing  more  from  me  to-day,  than 
an  account  of  the  circumstances  which  induced  me  to  pub- 
lish so  many  volumes  of  sermons.  Strictly  speaking,  it 
was  never  my  intention  to  print  any  of  my  sermons ;  much 

•  Cicero  in  Bruto,  c.  65,  $  233. 


LETTER   I.  15 

less  could  I  ever  have  thought  of  printing  a  whole  library  of 
them.  I  iiad  preached  as  provost  of  the  university  church 
at  Wittemberg  for  two  years,  when,  in  1780,  I  permitted 
a  collection  of  my  sermons  to  be  publislied.  As  I  was 
then  obliged  to  apply  all  my  powers  to  other  matters,  I 
should  never  have  done  so,  had  it  not  been  for  the  earnest 
importunities  of  my  friends.  Of  the  numerous  sermons, 
however,  which  I  then  had  by  me,  I  published  only  six- 
teen in  this  collection,  supposing  that  with  these  I  should 
satisfy  the  desires  of  my  friends,  without  being  obliged  to 
deviate  altogether  from  my  resolution,  not  to  trouble  the 
public  with  many  sermons.* 

Indeed,  with  the  exception  of  the  two  which  I  delivered 
on  being  transferred  from  one  station  to  another,  the  pro- 
fits of  which  were  to  be  applied  to  the  establishment  of  a 
young  ladies'  school  at  Wittemberg,  I  printed  but  a  single 
sermon  during  the  six  following  years,  though  I  preached 
in  the  mean  time  with  unremitting  diligence,  at  the  above- 
named  place,  and  had  begun  to  do  so  with  still  greater 
zeal  at  Dresden.  With  none  of  the  numerous  requests 
which  I  received,  to  publish  many  sermons,  did  I  comply; 
and  it  was  not  until  1793,  when  a  new  edition  of  my  first 
volume  was  called  for,  that  1  added  a  second,  which,  like 
the  first,  comprised  but  sixteen  sermons;  which  I  thought 
would  satisfy  people,  and  be  the  last. 

Soon  afterwards,  or  in  the  year  1795,  a  proposal  was 
made  in  the  Imperial  i\dvertiser,f  and  sustained  by  vari- 
ous reasons,  that  I  should  publish  all  the  sermons  I  had 
delivered.  To  this  proposal,  however,  ignorant  as  I  was 
from  what  quarter  it  came,  I  should  have  paid  little  or  no 
attention,  and  by  it,  hardly  have  been  induced  to  change 
my  original  purpose,  in  regard  to  printing  but  a  few  ser- 
mons, if  a  circumstance  had  not  occurred  which  almost 
obliged  me  to  do  so.  My  sermons  were  taken  down  as 
they  were  delivered.  This  was  done  by  ignorant  per- 
sons, who  acquired  their  living  by  means  of  the  sermons 
which  they  sent  into  the  city  and  province.  It  is  easy 
to  imagine  what  a  form  my  sermons  in  this  way  received. 

*  See  the  preface  to  the  first  edition  of  these  sermons, 
t  The  Reichsanzeiger. 

/ 


16  LETTER    I. 

■ 

I  cannot  deny  that  when  sonne  of  these  transcribed  ser- 
mons first  fell  into  my  hands,  I  was  exceedingly  vexed. 
You  may  believe  me,  my  dear  friend,  or  not,  but  I  could 
hardly  recognize  myself  in  them.  I  was  astonished  at  the 
nonsense  which  was  put  into  my  mouth  ;  and  yet  it  was 
not  in  my  power  to  prevent  these  transcripts  from  being 
taken,  as  the  goodnaturedness  of  the  readers  made  it  too 
profitable  a  business  for  the  transcribers  to  relinquish  it. 
I  was  obliged,  therefore,  to  choose  between  two  evils,  and 
either  see  my  sermons  brought  into  general  circulation  in  a 
very  garbled  and  corrupted  slate,  or  publish  them  myself, 
as  they  were  originally  delivered.  As  I  had  been  request- 
ed to  do  the  latter,  and  it  appeared  to  be  the  only  means 
left  me  for  avoiding  a  thousand  errors,  so  it  appeared  to 
me  of  the  two  evils  to  be  the  least ;  and  hence,  agreeably 
to  the  advice  of  my  friends,  I  made  choice  of  it."^^ 

As  soon  as  one   collection  of  the  sermons  which  I  had 
delivered  in  1795,  made  its  appearance,  1  received  urgent 
requests,  not  only  in  the  Imperial  Advertiser,  but  from  va- 
rious quarters,  to  continue  printing  them  ;  and  as  the  prin- 
cipal reason  which  induced  me  to  publish  the  first,  existed 
in  regard  to  the  others,  so  I  was  induced,  rather  than  see 
my  sermons  circulating  in  a  garbled  and  corrupted  state, 
to  accede  to  the  importance  of  these  requests.     In   the 
mean  time,  people  continued  to  receive  them  with  unantic- 
ipated favor,   and  from  various  quarters,   I  derived  very 
positive  evidence  of  their  having  been  productive  of  good. 
Notice  was  taken  of  them  even  in  foreign  countries,   and 
many  of  them  were  translated  into  other  languages ;  and 
though  T  was  more  than  once  resolved  to  stop  printing 
them,  yet,  partly  out  of  compliance  with  public  requests, 
and  partly  out  of  compliance  with  the  wishes  of  friei^ds 
made  known  to  me  in  private  letters,  I  was  induced  to  de- 
viate from  my  resolution ;  so  that  I  have  now  printed  all 
the  sermons  which  I  preached  for  a  series  of  fifteen  years, 
which  constitute  the  number  of  volumes  extant. 

But  enough  for  once.  As  soon  as  I  get  time  for  the 
purpose,  my  dear  friend,  I  will  come  to  what  you  particu- 
larly wish  to  know, — the  character  and  course  of  my 
homiletical  education.     Farewell. 

*  See  the  preface  to  the  first  edition  of  the  Sermons  of  1795. 


LETTER    ir. 


17 


LETTER     II. 

Eai-ly  education— luslrucled  by  his  father— Becomes  attached  to  well-arranged 
sermons— Learus  the  ancient  languages— Fond  of  poetry,  but  destitute  of 
good  poets— Gels  hold  of  Haller. 

My  Dear  Friend — 

If  you  wish  to  know  all  the  circumstances  which  exert- 
ed a  decided  influence  upon  my  education  for  the  minis- 
try, you  must  accompany  me  far  back  into  the  years  of 
my  childhood.  This  is  the  only  way  in  which  I  shall  be 
able  to  give  you  a  radical  and  historical  account  of  my 
sermons,— to  show  you  how  they  assumed  the  form  they 

possess. 

For  ihe  whole  of  my  early  education,  I  am  indebted  to 
my  father,  who  was  my  teacher  until  my  sixteenth  year. 
John  Stephen  Matthias  Reinhard,^  a  man  whose  name 
would  always  have  been  sacred  to  me,  even  if  he  had  not 
been  my  father,  was  a  minister  at  Vohenstrauss,  a  market 
town  in  the  dukedom  of  Sulzbach.  He  was  unanimously 
looked  upon  by  all,  as  one  of  the  best  preachers  in  that 
region.  He  could  not  indeed  rise  entirely  above  the  fauhs 
of  his  age.  Agreeably  to  the  custom  then  prevalent,  he 
made  choice  of  a  particular  method,  and  selected  a  gen- 
eral theme,  upon  which  he  treated  in  all  its  relations  and 
extent,  until  another  year  commenced.  His  thorough  ed- 
ucation, however,  deep  knowledge  of  human  nature,  great 
experience,  and  vivacious  delivery,  introduced  so  many 
changes  into  his  method,  rendered  his  discourses  so  attrac- 
tive, connected  them  so  intimately  and  firmly  together,  and 
made  them  such  a  well  arranged  whole,  that  he  was  not 
only  heard  with  uniform  attention  by  his  church,  but  list- 
ened to  with  pleasure  by  strangers ;  it  being  usual  for  many 
on  their  way  to  or  from  Prague,  so  to  order  their  affairs 
as  to  stop  on  the  Sabbath  morning  and  hear  him  preach. 
Among  the  peculiar  qualities  for  which  his  sermons  were 

*  My  father  wrote  his  name  Reinhart,  but  for  reasons,  a  part  of  which  he 
himself  suggested,  I  thought  it  best  to  exchange  the  t  for  a  d. 

*2 


18  LETTER     n. 

distinguished,  may  be  named  a  strict  and  minute  arrange- 
ment of  every  thing  ihey  contained.  That  this  arrange- 
ment was  perfectly  natural,  and  obvious  at  first  glance,  you 
may  infer  from  the  fact,  that,  when  a  lad  from  ten  to  elev- 
en years  of  age,  1  could  remember  it,  and  write  it  down 
upon  paper  on  my  return  home.  I  did  so,  and,  as  I  found 
the  exercise  pleased  my  father,  for  he  usually  examined 
what  I  had  written,  and  corrected  it  whenever  he  found  it 
wrong,  I  regularly  continued  this  practice  every  Sabbath, 
until  1  had  acquired  such  skill  in  this  respect,  that  not  a 
single  topic  escaped  me. 

The  result  was,  as  you  may  infer,  that  I  early  formed 
the  conception  of  a  sermon  strictly  arranged,  and  so  dis- 
posed in  regard  to  all  its  main  parts,  as  easily  to  be  retain- 
ed in  the  memory, — a  conception,  accompanied  with  all 
the  allurements  of  a  paternal  example,  and  so  firmly  fast- 
ened in  my  soul,  as  never  again  to  be  extirpated.  From 
this  time  onward,  every  sermon  was  entirely  lost  to  me, 
which  either  had  no  plan,  or  one  which  I  was  unable  to 
comprehend ;  and  this  is  the  reason  why  most  of  the  ser- 
mons which  I  afterwards  heard  in  various  places,  present- 
ed me  with  no  attractions. 

Not  less  important  or  rich  in  results,  was  the  instruction 
which  I  received  from  my  father  in  the  ancient  languages. 
He  was  an  excellent  philologist,  and  read  the  ancients  with 
feeling  and  a  correct  and  lively  apprehension  of  their  sen- 
timent. He  did  not  seek  at  first  to  impart  this  feeling  and 
such  an  apprehension,  to  me.     On  the  other  hand,  when 
we  commenced  reading  an   ancient  work   together,   his 
principal  object  was  to  increase  my  knowledge  of  the  lan- 
guage, by  entering  into  a  philological  explanation  of  ev- 
ery thing  it  contained.     The  other  part  of  the  task  was  left 
for  another  time.     During  the  day  he  was  engaged  in  the 
laborious   duties  of  his  office,  but  the  evenings,  after  sup- 
per, he  spent  at  home,  taking  enjoyment  and  repose  in  the 
bosom  of  his  family.     As  on  these  occasions,  he  early  dis- 
covered in  me  a  susceptibility  for  conversation  upon  sub- 
jects of  general  utility  and  a  serious  character,  so  he  be- 
gan to  devote  the  time  which  he  spent  with  his  children 
from  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  to  ten,  almost  exclusive- 
ly to  me,  conversing  with  me  upon  such  subjects  as  were 


LETTER    II.  19 

adapted  to  my  age  and  attainments.  It  was  on  these  oc- 
casions that  that  love  was  awakened  in  me  for  the  study 
of  the  ancients  which  increased  with  after  years,  and  re- 
mains with  me  still.  It  was  his  custom  to  converse  with 
me  upon  some  passage  of  an  ancient  work,  especially  in 
the  Latin,  (the  Greek  I  was  then  unable  to  read.)  These 
passages  were  generally  selected  from  Virgil  and  Cicero, 
the  two  classics  which  he  admired  the  most,  and  which  we 
had  begun  to  read  together.  In  these  exercises,  nothing 
was  said  respecting  philology.  Our  sole  object  was  to 
discover  in  what  the  beauty,  ingeniousness,  greatness,  and 
sublimity  of  the  passage  consisted  ;  and  these  were  devel- 
oped by  him  with  a  fire  which  entered  into  my  heart  and 
early  convinced  me,  that  the  ancients  were  the  genuine 
masters  of  poetry  and  eloquence,  and  that  we  must  learn 
of  them  and  take  them  for  models. 

In  the  mean  time,  however,   as  regards  my  native  lan- 
guage, I  was   quite  deserted.     As  early  as  my  ninth  year 
indeed,  I  felt  an  inclination  for  poetry,  which  might  have 
been  strengthened,  had  there  been  any  thing  to  strengthen 
it.     Scarcely  had  I  been  able  to  read  a  single   German 
poet  wiih  feeling,   when   my  father  lost  his  library,  which 
'  was  a  valuable  one  for  that  time  and  place,  in  a  disastrous 
fire,  not  a  single  leaf  of  it  being  saved.    I,  who  had  begun 
to  hanker  more  and  more  after  the  German  poets,   was 
now  confined  to  the  Sulzbach  Hymn  Book,  at  this  time  a 
very  miserable  one,   Canitz's  poems,   and  Brookes'^  me- 
trical translation  of  Pope's  Essay  on  Man.     Accordingly, 
I  read  these  books  again  and   again,  imitated  the  poetry, 
and  tried  to  do  for  myself  all  I  could.     I  had  an   obscure 
feeling,  indeed,  that  they  were  far  from  being  perfect.     In 
short,  I  could  never  avoid  thinking  there  was  something 
far  above  them  in  point  of  ^cellence,  and  this,  because 
my  father  had  already  pointed  out  to  me  something  supe- 
rior to  them,  among  the  ancients.     Two  years  elapsed, 
however,  before  I  was  able  to  light  upon   any  thing  better 
in  our  own  language  ;  with  reference  to  which  it  should 
be  recollected,  that  the  state  of  our  literature  had  but  just 
begun  to  improve,  and  that  the  Upper  Palatinate  was  al- 

*  [For  a  notice  of  Canitz  and  Brockes,  see  Memoirs  of  Goelhe,  N.  Y.  1824, 
p.  302,  and  p.  306.] 


20  LETTER    ir. 

most  entirely  destitute  of  every  thing  wbicli  the  authors  of 
this  improvement  had  already  produced. 

But  now,  my  friend,  I  come  to  an  event,  which,  though 
small  in  itself,  was,  in  respect  to  my  education,  highly  im- 
portant, and  rich  in  results.  I  had  reached  my  thirteenth 
year,  when  my  eldest  sister  was  married  to  a  young  cler- 
gyman by  the  name  of  Schatzler.  While  on  a  visit  to  my 
father's,  he  discovered  my  inclination  for  poetry,  and  my 
lamentable  destitution  of  good  writers  in  this  department, 
and  presented  me  with  the  poems  of  Haller.  It  is  in  vain 
for  me  to  attempt  to  express  to  you  the  joy  and  transport 
with  which  I  read  and  devoured  this  poet.  All  at  once 
the  problem  which  had  vexed  me  was  solved.  I  now 
supposed  myself  to  have  found  what  I  had  sought  for  in 
my  Brockes  and  Cnnitz,  in  vain.  It  was  not  long  before  I 
knew  my  Haller  by  heart.  Of  course,  I  imitated  him  ; 
and,  as  every  thing  that  I  found  in  my  admired  pattern, 
struck  me  as  beautiful,  I  was  pleased  with  his  provincial- 
isms among  the  rest ;  as  even  then  I  was  able  to  discover 
them.  Indeed,  I  employed  them  in  my  own  verses,  and, 
in  the  midst  of  the  Upper  Palatinate,  wrote  as  though  I 
was  a  native  of  Berne. '^ 

What  however  was  this  small  error,  in  comparison  with 
the  immense  advantage  which  I   derived   from   Haller? 
His  train   of  thought  was  rich   and   full  of  meaning,  and 
every  word  of  him  took  possession  of  my  soul.     I  passed 
by  nothing   without  the  most   careful   examination,  and 
dwelt  with  indescribable  pleasure  upon  every  line,  always 
expecting  to  discover  something  more  in  it ;  and  the  nu- 
merous passages  which  I  did   not   and   could    not   under-  ' 
stand,  only  served  to  exalt  my  reverence  for  the   poet. 
They  appeared  to  me  to  be  divine  expressions  surrounded 
with  a  sacred  obscurity,  the  meaning  of  which  I  thought 
would  probably  be  unveiled  to  me  at  some  future  period. 
From  this  time  onward,  1  became   disgusted   with   every 
thing  like   prolixity,    exuberance  of   language  and    tau- 
tology.    How  much  soever  pleasure  other  youths  could 

*  [For  notices  of  Haller,  see  Memoirs  of  Goelbe,  p.  325  ;  Rees'  Cydop«e- 
dia-  and  Pinacotheca  Scriptorum  Nostra  ^tate  Literis  lllustriam,  etc.,  kng- 
Tisti  Vindelicorum,  1741,  in  Decad,  IV.  where  a  likeness  of  him  is  also  to  be 
found.  He  was  a  native  of  Berne,  noted  for  his  precocity,  distinguished  as  a 
poet,  and  one  of  the  most  thorough  and  extensive  scholars  of  his  age.] 


LETTER  III.  ^^ 


find  in  a  certain  fulness  and  luxuriancy  of  expression,  and 
a  play  with  brilliant  images  and  well  sounding  phrases,  in 
them  I  could  find  none.  Haller  made  me  so  choice  of 
my  expressions,  I  may  say,  reduced  me  to  such  poverty 
in  this  respect,  that,  when  there  was  no  new  thought  to  be 
uttered  either  difl:erent  from  the  preceding  or  designed 
to  render  it  more  definite,  I  absolutely  had  not  another 
word  to  say.  When  therefore,  I  reflect  upon  the  influence 
exerted  upon  me  by  the  poems  of  Haller,  I  am  convinc- 
ed, that  my  style  derived  its  peculiarities  particularly  from 
them.  That  they  made  it  too  dry  I  am  willing  to  admit. 
Haller  naturally  exerted  a  greater  influence  upon  my  rea- 
son than  my  imagination,  and  perhaps  curbed  the  latter,  far 
too  much.  About  this  time,  I  heard  various  strangers 
passing  through  the  place,  speak  with  great  enthusiasm 
of  Klopstock's  Messiah,  and  praise  various  other  German 
poets,  particularly  Hagedorn  and  Gellert  f  but,  living  as 
I  then  was  in  a  dark  and  >yretched  corner  of  Germany, 
for  me  to  obtain  any  of  these  writers  was  a  thing  impossi- 
ble. Consequently,  Haller  remained  my  all,  until  the 
death  of  my  father  entirely  changed  ray  future  destina- 
tion.    Of  this  however  another  time.     Farewell. 


LETTER  III. 

Father  dies— Goes  to  Regensburg— Gets  hold  of  other  poets — Notice  of  his 
instructors— Account  of  his  studies — Admires  Cicero— Reads  French  and 
ItaUan  works — Makes  verses. 

My  Dear  Friend — 

Under  the  guidance  of  my  father,  I  had  made  consid- 
erable progress  in  the  Latin  language,  and  could  express 

*  [For  notices  of  Hagedorn  and  Gellert,  as  well  asKlopstock,  see  the  work 
already  referred  to,  Memoirs  of  Goethe,  pp.  31.3,  324,  and  335.] 


22  LETTER    III. 

myself  in  it  with  some   ease   and  correctness.     In   the 
Greek  and  in  other  things  belonging  to  a  preparation  for 
an   academical   course   of  studies,  I   was   quite  deficient- 
This  affected  my  father   very  deeply,  and,  as  he  had  no 
more  time  to  spare  from  the  laborious  duties  of  his  office 
than  he  had  hitherto  devoted  to  me,  which  was  aivvavs  far 
too  little,  and  he  also  jeadily  acknowledged  the  superior- 
ity of  a  public  education   to  a  private  one,  he  resolved  to 
send  me  to  the  very  same  school  where   he  had   received 
his  education,  and  of  which   he  never  spoke  but  in  grate- 
ful terms, — to   the    Gymnasium  poeticum  at  Regensburg. 
In  so  doing,  he   was   certainly   influenced   by  an   obscure 
presentiment  that   he   had  not   much   longer  to  live ;  for 
he   had    been    sick   more   or   less   for   a  year   previous, 
and  knew   his  condition  too  well  not  to  feel   that  death 
was  at  hand.     With  all  his  zeal  therefore,  he  immediately 
set  about  procuring  a  place  for  me  at  Regensburg.     Only 
a  (ew  days  before  his  exit,  he^.was  informed  by  letters,  of 
the  success  of  his  efforts.     Never  shall   1  forget  the  inde- 
scribably serious  look,  modified   indeed  by  a  most  heart- 
felt tenderness,  with   which   he  gave  me  the  information, 
and  fixed    his  eyes  upon   me   for   a  long  time  in  silence, 
prying  as  it  were  into  my  very  heart,  and    uttering   more 
than  words  could  express.     I  was  confounded,  and  finally 
stammered  out  the  assurance,  that  I   would  do  my  utmost 
to   equal  his   expectations.     What  expectations    he   had 
formed   of  me   I    knew    full    well.     He  did   not  conceal 
from   me  the   fact,  that  he  loved   me   in  particular,  and 
thought,  as   he   used   often  to   express  himself,  he  could 
make  something  out  of  me.     He  received   my   assurance 
with  looks  of  satisfaction  and  happiness,  dismissed    me 
without  saying  another  word,  and  a  (ew  days  afterwards 
was  laid  upon  the  bier. 

Accordingly,  in  the  autumn  of  1768,  being  in  my  16th 
year,  I  set  out  for  Regensburg.  My  mother,  who  died  of 
grief  at  the  loss  of  my  father,  had  furnished  me  with  a  few 
guilders,  her  six  months'  privilege  as  a  clergyman's  widow, 
not  having  then  expired.  These  I  was  carefully  to  hus- 
band in  order  to  a  supply  of  my  most  pressing  necessities, 
for  a  long  lime  to  come.  But  scarcely  had  I  taken  up 
my  abode   in  Regensburg,  before   I   disposed  of  almost 


LETTER    III.  23 

oil  this  money  at  a  bookseller's  shop  for  some  German 
poeis,  particularly  Klopstock's  Messiah,  of  which  only 
the  ten  first  books  were  then  published.  The  last  attract- 
ed me  with  an  irresistible  power  which  operated  equally 
strong  upon  my  imagination  and  my  heart.  In  it,  I  discov- 
ered the  German  language  in  a  richness,  strength,  and,  1 
may  say,  magnificence,  of  which  I  had  previously  had  no 
conception.  In  regard  to  sentiment,  sublimity,  and  train 
of  thought,  what  a  resemblance  there  was  between  Klop- 
stock,  and  my  Haller,  and  how  welconje  therefore  must 
the  former  have  been  to  one,  whose  feelings  had  been  ex- 
cited and  moulded  by  the  latter !  Hence,  I  read  my 
Messiah  so  often,  and  with  such  interest,  that  in  a  short 
time  I  knew  it  by  heart  as  well  as  I  did  my  Haller.  I 
was  not  led  astray  by  him,  however,  like  many  of  my 
young  friends,  into  a  love  of  pompous  phrases  and  poetical 
nonsense.  From  such  an  error  I  had  been  carefully  se- 
cured by  Haller,  and  still  more  so  by  the  study  of  the  an- 
cients, to  which  I  now  applied  myself  with  all  diligence. 

And  here  with  renewed  gratitude  I  must  make  men- 
tion of  a  teacher.  He  is  not  honored  indeed  with  a  great 
name  among  the  learned,  nor  has  he  written  much  ;  but  yet 
he  was  thoroughly  acquainted  with  philology,  poss':;ssed 
of  rare  skill  as  a  teacher,  and  a  benevolence  towards  his 
pupils  which  gained  for  him  every  heart.  I  refer  to 
Frederic  Augustus  Topfer,  who  was  then  conrector  of 
the  Gymnasium,  into  whose  class  I  was  put,  after  having 
been  examined  by  George  Henry  Martini,  the  rector.  To 
this  man  I  am  particularly  indebted  for  the  influence  which 
the  reading  of  the  ancients  exerted  upon  my  education, 
and  entire  mode  of  thinking,  and  the  benefit  they  proved 
to  me  in  regard  to  facility  of  expression.  He  was  inti- 
mately acquainted  with  all  the  niceties  of  the  Latin  lan- 
guage, and  labored  to  teach  his  scholars  how  to  express 
themselves  in  it  not  only  with  correctness,  but  even  with 
elegance.  Having  corrected  the  first  exercise  that  I  wrote 
in  the  class,  he  told  me  in  a  friendly  way,  that  he  saw  I 
had  some  skill,  but  that  I  had  not  yet  got  my  Latin  stays 
on,  and  therefore  must  in  future  attend  more  implicitly  to 
his  instructions.  His  method,  when  he  made  us  translate 
out  of  the  German  language  into  the  Latin,  was  to  select 


24  LETTER    III. 

for  us  the  most  excellent  Latin  phrases.     These  were  the 
pure  idioms  of  the  language,  which,  being  chosen  with  the 
greatest  care  furnished  him  with   an  occasion  to  make  us 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  its  genius  ;  at  the  same  time, 
he  always  carried  us  back  to  fundamental  principles,  and 
the  reasons  why  a  thing  should  be  so  and  not  otherwise, 
and    in    this   way,    not    only    accustomed   us    to    gram- 
matical  correctness  in  both  languages,  but  to  a  critical 
mode  of  thinking  upon  matters  of  this  kind.     This  he  ac- 
complished to  a   still  greater  degree,  when  we  read   and 
translated  the  ancients ;  for  in  this  case,  he  was  careful  to 
see,  that  the  author  translated   was  rendered  as  well  as 
possible,  and  with  taste.     To  show  us  how  this  was  to  be 
done,  he  put  into  our  hands,  not  translations  of  the  Latin 
and  Greek   authors,  (for  then  we  had  none  worthy  of  im- 
itation,) but  those  Gerinan  writers  who  had   imitated  the 
ancients  with  the  greatest  success.     To  these  he  drew  our 
attention,  while  he  endeavored  to  show  us  what  use  we  were 
to  make  of  translating  from  the  ancients.     Accordingly,  it 
was  he    who   for  this  purpose,  first  put  Wieland's  writings 
into  my  hands,  so  far  as  they  were  then   published,  and 
Ramler's  Odes ;  and  happy  was  the  result  of  this  course 
and  highly  satisfactory  the  use  we  made  of  his  instructions, 
in  this  respect,  whenever  we  translated  from  the  ancient 
Greek  and  Roman  authors.     For  those  of  his  scholars 
who  obtained  his   particular  confidence,  (and  I  was  soon 
so  happy  as  to  be  of  this   number,)  there  was  in   general 
free  access  to  his  library,  which  was  quite  extensive,  well 
selected,  and  contained  the  best  ancient  and  modern  wri- 
ters for  philological  purposes. '    Here  we  were  not  only 
furnished  with  an  opportunity  to  collect   together  many 
items  of  information,  but  also  enabled  to  obtain  what  was 
most  adapted  to  our  wants. 

The  happy  relation  in  which  I  stood  to  Topfer,  the 
conrecior,  lasted  for  the  two  years  that  I  spent  in  the  class 
of  the  rector.  This  was  effected  in  part  by  Topfer's  being 
obliged  to  give  weekly  lessons  to  this  class,  so  that  he  con- 
tinued to  be  its  teacher  even  after  it  had  ceased  to  be  his ; 
and  in  part,  by  the  habit  he  was  in  of  keeping  up  his  con- 
nexion with  those  pupils  whom  he  had  once  permitted  to 
have  free  access  to  him,  even  though  they  were  no  longer 


LETTER    III.  25 

under  his  immediate  control ;  and  he  who  had  once  formed 
such  a  connexion,  found  it  too  advantageous  and  honorable, 
to  be  neglected,  or  dissolved  by  means  of  unworthy  conduct. 

The  rector  Martini,  though  doubtless  possessed  of 
greater  and  more  extensive  learning,  was  far  less  capable 
than  Topfer,  of  rendering  himself  useful  as  an  instructor. 
He  did  not  possess  Topfer's  philological  knowledge.  Un- 
der him,  however,  we  continued  the  diligent  and  careful 
reading  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  classics,  and,  as  he  at- 
tended to  the  more  difficult  writers,  from  him  we  in  fact 
derived  much  valuable  assistance. 

Thus  I  lived  and  employed  myself  for  four  years  and  a 
half,  for  this  was  the  length  of  time  that  I  remained  in  the 
Gymnasium  at  Regensburg,  strictly  speaking,  among  the 
ancient  Greeks  and  Romans.  At  the  public  recitations, 
indeed,  as  there  always  were  many  dull  scholars  among  us, 
only  a  little  of  each  author  was  explained.  To  accom- 
modate these,  we  were  confined  almost  to  one  place. 
Those  who  felt  inclined  to,  however,  read  much  more  out 
of  the  school.  Wliile  I  was  connected  with  the  rector's 
class,  we  scarcely  ended  the  fifth  book  of  the  Iliad.  In 
the  mean  time,  I  had  already  read  my  Homer  through 
more  than  once,  at  home.  That  the  same  was  true  with 
regard  to  Xenophon,  Cicero,  Livy,  Horace,  Virgil,  Ovid, 
Curtius,  Terence  and  Pliny  the  younger,  all  of  which 
were  attended  to  in  our  public  recitations,  needs  not  be 
said.  At  home  also  we  had  writers  at  hand,  who  were  not 
meddled  with  at  school.  I  began  therefore  to  form  an 
acquaintance  with  Hesiod,  the  Greek  tragedians,  with  Is- 
ocrates,  Demosthenes  and  Plutarch,  among  the  Greeks  ; 
and  with  Suetonius,  Tacitus,  Juvenal,  the  Scripfores  Histo- 
riae  Augustae^  and  Seneca  ;  and  at  least,  to  collect  literary 
notices  of  the  other  writers  of  antiquity. 

Here  I  must  observe  that  my  favorite  author  about  this 
time,  was  Cicero,  whom  I  continued  to  look  upon  as  une- 
qualled in  regard  to  rhetorical  diction,  until  I  became  ac- 
quainted with  Demosthenes.  Of  course,  I  made  great 
efforts  lO  imitate  his  style  in  Latin,  and  as  in  addition  there- 
to I  had  obtained  possession  of  John  Augustus  Ernesti's 
edition  of  the  ancients,  (his  Initia  Doctrinae  Solidioris,  had 
3 


26 


LETTER    III. 


then  been  inlrodiiced  as  a  text-book,*)  and  his  Opuscuky 
so  by  the  example  of  this  successful  Ciceronian.  I  became 
farther  confirmed  in  the  opinion,  that  he  who  would  ac- 
quire a  good  style,  must  adhere  to  Cicero  in  particular,  as 
a  guide.  Hence,  it  was  not  easy  for  me  to  let  a  single 
day  pass  without  reading  something  of  Cicero's.  At  the 
same  lime,  I  had  commenced  the  study  of  the  French  and 
the  Italian  languages;  and  it  was  not  long  before  1  could 
read  the  best  authors  especially  in  the  former,  in  connex- 
ion with  the  ancients.  Accordingly,  with  great  zeal,  I 
took  hold  of  Fenelon's  Telemaque,  Racine's  and  Cor- 
neille's  Tragedies,  Mollere's  Comedies,  Boileau's  Satires, 
and  Bossuet's  Introduction  to  Universal  History  ;  nor  did  I 
ever  grow  weary  of  comparing  together  those  authors 
known  to  me  who  had  treated  of  the  same  events,  or  ever 
come  away  from  it,  witbout  having  observed  much  and 
learned  many  useful  things.  That  under  such  circum- 
stances, my  inclination  for  poetry  should  increase,  was  a 
matter  of  course.  Not  only  did  I  improve  every  occasion 
which  was  presented  us  for  making  Latin  and  German 
verses  as  a  class,  but  I  made  many  of  my  own  accord  ; 
and,  as  my  acquaintance  with  the  majority  of  our  German 
poets  increased,  acquired  i^acility  in  this  species  of  writing, 
until  I  became  quite  skilful.  In  all  cases,  I  gained  in 
readiness  at  expressing  myself  in  my  native  language,  and 
this  was  the  greatest  advantage  I  derived  from  these  ex- 
ercises. Nature  had  not  destined  me  for  a  poet,  and  as 
such,  I  should  never  have  produced  any  thing  excellent. 

*  [This  work  comprises  an  excellent  course  of  literature,] 


LETTER     IV.  27 


LETTER    IV. 

Answers  the  questions,  why  he  did  not  read  sermons  for  personal  edification, 
or  ministerial  improvement — Remains  at  Regensl)urg'  as  auditor — Connexion 
with  Prof.  Grimm — Acquires  a  deep  relisli  for  the  Crusian  philosophy. 

My  Dear  Friend — 

"  And  did  you  then,"  you  ask  me,  in  your  last,  "  did 
you  live  all  the  lime  you  passed  at  scliool,  amoni::  llie  hea- 
tlien  ?  Did  you  attend  to  nothing  that  had  a  more  imme- 
diate reference  to  the  business  of  preaching,  to  which  you 
had  devoted  yourself?  Did  you  not  occasionally  hear  or 
read  a  sermon  for  your  own  edification  ?"  Permit  me  to 
answer  these  questions  of  yours  in  detail. 

During  my  residence  at  Regensbur<i,  I  heard  a  multi- 
tude of  sertnons.  Tiie  laws  of  the  s(  hnol  required  us  to 
go  to  church  iwice  every  Sahbaih  and  festival,  and  twice 
on  week  days.  One  sermon,  theiefore,  on  the  Sal)bath, 
and  two  on  week  days,  were  the  least  that  fell  to  our  share. 
Here  I  found  sufficient  nourishment  for  those  religious 
feelings  which  had  early  been  excited,  and  by  the  wisest 
means,  carefully  cherished  in  me  by  my  father;  and 
though  attendance  upon  divine  worsiiip  was  of  but  little 
benefit  to  my  tninisterial  education,  it  did  not  fail  to  prove 
a  blessing  to  my  heart. 

As  regards  my  own  personal  edification,  T  cannot  recol- 
lect a  period  in  my  life  in  wliich  I  altOL^ether  neglected  it. 
It  was  a  matter  of  necessity  lor  me  to  collect  my  thoughts 
together,  and  jeflect  upon  my  moral  condition  ;  but  I 
frankly  confess  to  you,  that  [  never  resorted  to  sermons  for 
aid  ia  suck  meditations,  and  that  during  my  residence  at 
Regensbnrg,  I  never  read  any, — not  a  single  one.  In 
neiilecting  to  do  so,  I  may  have  coumiiiied  a  great  error, 
which  I  shall  not  undertake  to  deny  ;  but  listen  to  me  and 
hear  what  it  was  that  induced  me,  to  act  as  I  did. 

It  is  impossible  for  any  one  to  be  accustomed  at  an 
earlier  age,  to  look  upon  the  Bible  as  the  book  of  all  books, 


28  '  LETTER     IV. 

than  I  was.     I  commenced  learning  to  read  with  the  Pro- 
verbs of  Solomon,  which  were  printed  with  distinct  sylla- 
bles lor  the  sake  of  children  ;  and  scarcely  had  I  attained 
to  any  degree  of  skill  in  reading,  when  my  father,  to  whom 
the  Scriptures  were  every  thing  in  matters  of  religion,  pre- 
sented  me   with   a  Bible.     Hence,   when  a  child  of  five 
years  of  age,   1   began  to  read  the  Bible.     I  read  it  in 
course  as  1  found  it,   from  the  beginning  to  the  end,  and 
did  it  more  than  once  ;  never  suffering  a  single  day  to  pass, 
without  having  completed  my  task  in  this  respect.     This 
was  indeed   a  childish  notion.     I  felt  so,   and  therefore 
never  told  my  father  of  it,  but  read  my  Bible   in  silence, 
and  altogether  for  myself.     In   the  mean  time,   however, 
I   derived   increasing  delight  from  reading  it;  embraced 
every  opportunity  which  presented,  to  ask  my  father  ques- 
tions respecting  it;  and,  as  I  advanced,   made  many  use- 
ful reflections  of  my  own,   until  I  gradually  acquired  the 
habit  of  using  it  for  purposes  of  personal  edification,  with- 
out calling  any  thing  farther  to  my  aid,  than  a  spiritual  song. 
This  habit  I  carried  with  me  to  Regensburg.     As  I   was 
always  able,  while   there,  to  read   the  New  Testament  in 
the  original,  reading  the  Bible  presented  me  with  new  at- 
tractions.    1  ran  to  my  Bible,  therefore,  whenever  I  wish- 
ed for  instruction,   animation,  or  comfort ;  and  as  I  found 
every  thing  in  it  that  I  wanted,  in  great  abundance,  I  never 
once  thought  of  seeking  after  other  means  of  edification. 
*'  Still,  it  would  have  exerted  a  happy  influence,"  as  you 
think,  "  upon  m.y  education  as  a  minister  of  the  Gospel,  if 
I  had  occasionally  read   a  masterly  sermon."     1  will  not 
deny  it.     The  sermons  of  Mosheim,  Jerusalem,  Cramer, 
Sack,    and   others,   not  to   mention  many  in  foreign  lan- 
guages, were  net  only  worthy  of  being  read,   but  studied. 
I  must  tell  you,  however,  my  dear  friend,  that  when  at 
Regensburg,  I  had  not  definitely  resolved  upon  becoming 
a  minister  of  the  Gospel,  and   was  very  uncertain  what 
course  I  should  pursue.     From  my  very  youth,  indeed,  I 
had  felt  a  strong  inclination  for  the  sacred  office,  and,  if  I 
may  so  express  myself,  a  kind  of  internal  call  to  preach ; 
and  hence,  could  never  hear  any  thing  said  respecting  my 
choosins  another  mode   of  life,   without   experiencing  a 
strong  internal  opposition  which  I  was  unable  entirely  to 


LETTER     IV.  ^^ 


suppress.     So  wenk  however  was  my  body,  and  so  criii- 
cal  my  healtli,   lliat  many,    and  a  iady  in  particular,   lor 
whom,  as  she  alwavs  took  care  of  ine  with  maternal   ten- 
derness, I  had  the  greatest  respect,  told  me  that  I  was  not 
made   for   a   preacher,   and    should   never   have   strength 
rnou-h  to  sustain  ihe   labors  of  the  sacred  ministry;  and 
Ihat  self-preservation  required  me  to  direct  my  attention  to 
some   other  pnrsuit      Indeed,   I  was  twice  brought  to  the 
very  borders  of  the  grave  by  a  burning  fever,  from   which 
it  vvas  a  long  time  before    I   recovered.     This  confirmed 
my  patrons  and  friends  in  the  opiinou    they  had    formed, 
and  made  them  think  it  best  for  me  to  devote  all  my  time 
to  such  studies  as  would  be  ot    use   to  me  upon  whatever 
course  of  hfe  I  should  in  future  determine.     Under  such 
circumstances,  my  friend,  it  was  natural,  that  I  should  lose 
sight  of  every  thing  that  related  immediately  and  especial- 
ly to   the  business  of  preaching.     That  by  reading  the 
choicest  writers  of  antiquity,   however,   which  then  so  en- 
tirelv  engrossed  mv  mind,    I   was  taking  the  best  step  for 
obtaniina;  a  minisieVial  education,  whs  something  of  which 
I  did  not  conceive.     It  was  afterwards,  I  first  learned,  that 
I  had  employed  my  time  to  the  greatest  advantage  without 

knowing  it.  i  •  i    t 

There  is  another  circumstance,  however,  which  I  must 
mention,  as  it  had  an  immediate  bearing  upon  my  educa- 
tion as  a  minister  of  ihe  Gospel.  Willi  the  six  classes  of  ^ 
the  Gymnasium  at  Regensburg,  there  was  connected  a  di- 
vision called  the  auditory,  which  any  one  entered  who 
had  completed  the  time  prescribed  b}  law  for  the  six 
classes,  and  fitted  himself  for  the.  university.  To  these 
auditors,  as  they  were  called,  lectures  were  delivered  by 
the  regular  professors  at  the  Gymnasium,  upon  theology,^ 
philosophy,  philology,  and  other  sciences,  the  object  of 
whicli  was  to  initiate  the  hearers  into  the  university  course, 
and  prepare  them  for  making  a  profitable  use  of  its  exer- 
cises. Strangers  were  at  liberty  to  enier  upon  their  aca- 
demical career  immediately  fiom  the  up|)er  class,  or  to 
attend  in  the  first  place  to 'the  lectures  of  the  auditory.  I 
chose  the  latter  because  I  should  otlierwise  have  been 
obliged  to  go  away  at  Michaelmass,  at  which  time  no  reg- 
tilarcQurse  commenced    at  the  university,  and  the  most 

*3 


30 


LETTER     IV. 


important  lectures  had  been  continued  for  at  least  half  a 
year.  In  order,  therefore,  not  to  lose  the  advantages  of  a 
university  course  begun  in  season,  I  spent  the  winter 
half  of  the  year,  from  1772  to  1773,  still  at  Regensburg, 
as  auditor. 

Here,  then,  I  also  heard  John  Ludewig  Grimm,  the 
professor  of  theology,   and  at  the  same  time  a  preacher, 
and   as  such,   heard   with    great  approbation.     He   soon 
conceived  a  great  confidence  in  me,  and  gave  rae  a  com- 
mission for  which  I  was  but  poorly  prepared.     He  was 
obliged  by  the   duties  of  his  office,  to  preach  during  the 
week  in   St.  Oswald's  church.     The  sermons  which  he 
delivered  there,   were  a  kind  of  homilies  composed  of  ex- 
planations of  Genesis.     As  he   was  much  pressed  with 
business,  he  could  not  write  these  productions  out  in  full, 
for  want  of  time,  though  he  was  very  anxious  to  do  so. 
He   requested   me  therefore  to  take  his  rough  draughts, 
write  them  out  for  him,  reducing  them  to  the  proper  form, 
and  then  return  them  to  him.     My  first  efforts  in  this  bus- 
iness were  so  successful,  that  the  author  recognized  him- 
self in  what  I  gave  to  him,  and  requested  me  to  continue 
my  labor.    Accordingly  T  worked  out  for  him  quite  a  series 
oftliese  week-day  sermons,  in  the  manner  just  described; 
and  as  I  iticreased  my  endeavors  to  render  them  agreea- 
ble and  retain  those  expressions  of  the  author  which  were 
the  most  worthy  of  the  pulpit,  this  exercise  probably  ex- 
erted considerable  influence  in  the  formation  of  my  style. 
I  have  only  to  add,  that  Grimm  was   a  zealous  pupil  and 
follower  of  the  theologian  Crusius,*  under  whom  he   had 
studied  in  Leipsic,  and  respecting  whose  Plan  of  the  King- 
dom of  GGd\   he  delivered  his  lectures  in  Regensburg. 
You  will  not  think  it  strange,   therefore,  my  dear  friend, 
when  I  tell  you,  that  I  went  to  Saxony  filled  with  a  deep 

*  [For  a  notice  of  Crusius,  or  Krans,  as  it  is  written  in  the  German,  sre  Me- 
moirs of  Goethe,  &c.  p.  309  ;  also,  Germ.  Conv.  Lex.  He  formed  the  bold 
plan  of  reducinp^  philosophy  to  a  perfectly  consistent  and  rational  system,  and 
combining  it  wiih  orthodox  theoloe:y,  for  which  purpose  he  sought  to  destroy 
the  system  of  Wolf,  as  being  altogether  inconsistent  with  liis  own.  He  was  a 
deep  and  acute  thinker,  though  now  regarded  as  having  been  somewhat  heavy. 
His  philosophy  at  first  produced  considerable  effect,  but  he  outlived  his  influ- 
ence, and  the  numerous  theological  works  he  wrote,  are  in  general  forgotten. 
In  private  life  he  was  distinguished  for  integrity  and  rare  piety.] 

f  Vorstell.  V.  d.  Plane  Reichesgottes,  Leips. 


LETTER    V.  31 

reverence  for  this  philosopher  and  theologian,  and  that  his 
philosophical  system  was  the  first  I  became  acquainted 
with  and  studied.  But  of  the  years  I  spent  at  the  univer- 
fiityj  another  time.     Farewell. 


LETTER    V. 

« 

■Goes  to  Willemberg — Resolves  to  devote  liimself  to  the  ministry — Applies 
closely  to  the  most  important  studies, — Hears  Schrockh  on  church  history — 
Reads  Saurin's  Passion  Sermons — Concludes  to  remain  and  prepare  himself 
for  teaching. 

My  Dear  Friend — 

By  circumstances,  the  explanation   of  which   does  not 
properly  belong  to  this  place,  it  was  rendered  possible  for 
me  to  go  to  an   Electoral  Saxon   university,   instead  of 
going  to  Altdorf  or   Erlangen  which  were  far  nearer,  and 
the  usual  resorting  places  for  students  of  the  Upper  Pala- 
tinate.    According  to  a  plan  devised  for  me  by  Mirus  in 
Regensburg,  the  Electoral  Saxon  Secretary  of  Legation, 
one   of  my  patrons,  I  was  to  study  a  year  or  two  at  Wit- 
temberg,  when  he  hoped  by  means  of  the  celebrated  Cru- 
«ius,  his  intimate  friend,  to  contrive  some  way  for  me  to  go 
to  Leipsic  and  complete  my  studies  there  under  the   eye 
of  this  philosopher.     Here  in  the  very  outset,  1  must  re- 
mark, that  the  reason  of  this  plan's  not  being  carried  into 
execution,   was  the  death  of  Crusius  in  the  year  1775, 
united  with  the  new  connexions  I  had  formed,  which  ren- 
dered it  easy  and   advisable   for  me  to  continue  my  resi- 
dence at  the  university  in  Witiemberg. 

When  I  went  to  Saxony,  I  was  so  poor,  that  I  had  no 

expectations  of  being  able  to  stay  at  the  university  more 

than  two  years  at  the  farthest.     My  little  patrimony  would 

"  «ertainly  not  hold  out  longer  with  all  the  frugality  it  was 


32 


LETTER    V. 


possible  for  me  lo  exercise  ;  and  the.  fine  prospects  whleh 
had  been  laid  open  before  me  by  the  honest  and  pious 
Minis,  of  early  obtaining  a  livelihood  in  Saxony,  had  too 
little  security  to  authorize  me  to  put  confidence  in  tliem  or 
regulate  my  plans  accordingly. 

On  my  arrival  at  Wittemberg,  therefore,  I  had  resolved 
upon  two  things  :  First,  I  intended,  as  soon  as  possible,  to 
make  a  trial  at  preaching  in  order  to  see  whether  my 
breast  and  body  would  permit  me  to  study  theology,  or 
whether  I  should  be  obliged  to  select  some  other  profes- 
sion. If  the  former  should  be  the  case,  1  was  resolved  in 
the  second  place,  to  pay  no  farther  attention  to  preaching 
while  at  the  university,  but  during  the  short  space  of  time 
allotted  to  me  for  the  purpose,  to  hear  as  many  lectures 
as  possible,  and  make  myself  acquainted  with  the  indis- 
pensable sciences.  It  was  very  important  for  me  to  do  so, 
as,  from  a  predilection  for  the  Latin  and  Greek  authors  and 
a  dread  of  Dnnz,  who  was  usually  followed  by  tliose  who 
taught  the  Hebrew,  I  had  so  entirely  neglected  this  lan- 
guage as  to  be  under  the  necessity  of  commencing  it  on 
my  arrival  at  Wittemberg. 

What  I  had  resolved  upon,  I  most  punctually  perform- 
ed. I  had  passed  but  a  few  months  at  Wittemberg,  and 
had  begun  to  hear  lectures  upon  the  Hebrew  language, 
upon  philosophy,  upon  tlie  New  Testament,  and  upon  doc- 
trinal theology  ;  when,  on  the  sixth  Simday  after  the  feast 
of  Trinity,  I  delivered  a  sermon  from  the  usual  lesson-  of 
the  day,  in  Dietrichsdorf,  a  small  village  connected  with 
the  parish  in  Wittemberg,  but  having  a  church  of  its  own. 
The  trial  succeeded  ;  for  though  I  designedly  exerted  my 
utmost  efforts,  I  felt  not  the  least  inconvenience  at  the 
close.  The  peasants  also  assured  me  that  I  had  a  clear 
voice  and  an  excellent  enunciation ;  and  though  I  had 
never  been  in  Dietrichsdorf  before  in  my  life,  and  was  to- 
tally ignorant  of  every  one  in  the  place,  yet  the  schoolmas- 
ter and  the  peasant,  wiih  whom,  according  to  custom,  I 
was  obliged  to  dine,  told  me  in  the  most  ptn-fect  confidence 
at  the  close  of  divine  service,  that  I  had  spoken  some  ex- 
cellent truths  to  this  person  and  th  it,  whom  they  named. 
I  have  now  lost  all  recollections  of  what  I  preached  there. 
From  the  foregoing  fact,  however,  it  would  seem  at  leasts 


h 


A 


LETTER    V. 


33 


ihat  my  sermon  contained  some  practical  observations,  and 
such  as  were  suitable  for  common  life. 

I  now,  my  dear  friend,  immediately  formed  the  resolu- 
tion  of  becoming  a  minister.     The  ease  with  which  my 
first  trial  at  preaching  was  sustained,  the  attention   with 
which  the  litile  assembly  had  listened  to  me,  and,  permit 
me  to  add,  the  by  no  means  inconsiderable  marks  of  ap- 
probation 1  received, — all  these  confirmed  me  in  the  hope 
which  I  had  long  secretly  cherished,  that  I  should  not  la- 
bor in  this  department  without  success,  at  some  future  day. 
With  far  more  particularity,   however,   was  my  second 
resolve  carried  into  effect ;— not  to  think  any  more  at  pre- 
sent upon  writing  sermons  or  preaching,  but  to  apply  myself 
tothesciences  with  which  the  preacher  must  be  familiar,  if 
he  would  do  justice  to  his  great  calling.     I  now  zealously 
attended,  not  merely  to  the  acquisition  of  the  Hebrew,  but 
that  of  its  kindred  languages  ;  and  it  was  very  well  for  me 
that  1  found   a  teacher  m  the  now  deceased.   Professor 
Dresde,  who   was  well  acquainted  with  the  first  principles 
of  the  oriental  languages,   and  excellent  at  imparting  in- 
struction. 

With  still  greater  eagerness  did  I  attend  to  philosophy, 
in  which  the  deceased  Dr.  Schmid,  nephew  of  Dr.  Cru- 
sius,  was  my  instructor.  This  man  had  great  talent  at 
awakening  reflection  by  means  of  lively  conceits  and  ex- 
cellent remarks,  though  he  was  not  careful  enough  to  give 
his  discourses  the  requisite  clearness  and  connexion. 
Hence,  I  found  it  necessary  to  read  the  philosophical  writ- 
ings of  Crusius  for  myself,  and  this,  together  with  the  oral 
explanations  given  by  Schmid,  enabled  me  at  length, 
though  not  without  great  efforts,  to  obtain  a  tolerably  cor- 
rect apprehension  of  the  system  of  this  acute  and  consis- 
tent thinker.  If,  in  addition  to  all  this,  I  tell  you,  as  was 
the  case,  that  1  attended  exegetical  lectures  upon  the  Old 
and  New  Testaments  and  studied  mathematics  and  doc- 
trinal theology  ;  that  1  carefully  made  myself  familiar  with 
all  the  lectures  upon  the  sciences,  and  daily  read  my  He- 
brew Bible  in  order  to  acquire  all  the  skill  requisite  in  that 
language;  that  I  took  part  in  discussions  upon  theological 
and  philosophical  subjects,  and  finally,  that  I  still  sought 
to  save  many  hours  for  reading  the  Greek  and  Latin :  you 


34  LETTER  V. 

will  doubtless  believe,  that,  for  the  first  two  years  of  tnf 
residence  at  Witiemberg,  I  had  no  lime  to  preach. 

By  various  circunistances  indeed,  it  was  now  rendered 
possible  for  me  to  remain  longer  at  Wittemberg  than  I  had' 
originally  thought  of  doing  ;  but  as  an  ofjportuni^y  was^ 
presented  me  in  my  third  year,  of  becoming  more  inti- 
mately acquainted  with  Professor  Schrockh  and  hearing 
him  privadssime  upon  church  history,  I  was  induced  to 
embrace  it;  and  of  course,  a  new  and  wide  field  of  study- 
opened  before  me.  JVly  guide  in  it  [)roved  himself  master 
of  its  knowledge,  and  pointed  out  to  me  iis  most  interest- 
ing regions  with  such  skill  and  captivating  friendship  as  to 
fill  me  with  pleasure,  so  that  I  resolved  to  delay  awhile  in 
it,  and  devote  the  princi()al  part  of  my  time  to  him.  It  is 
true,  that  during  this  and  the  following,  or  my  fourth  year, 
I  was  occasionally  obliged  by  the  relation  in  which  I  stood, 
to  deliver  a  sermon,  but  so  rarely,  that  it  proved  no  hin- 
drance to  my  other  labors.  Besides,  1  then  had  no  op- 
portunity for  attending  to  those  scierjces  which  are  most 
intimately  connected  with  the  business  of  the  preacher. 
During  the  whole  course  of  my  study,  1  did  not  hear  a 
single  lecture  upon  theological  ethics  or  pastoral  theology, 
nor  did  I  receive  anv  instruction  in  homiletics,  or  hear  a 
single  lecture  upon  preaching.  Tliis  is  a  subject  of  deep 
regret'to  me,  but  he  who  is  well  acquainted  with  the  state 
of  the  university  at  Wittemberg  from  1773  to  1776,  knows 
that  it  was  not  al(02;ether  mv  fault. 

It  was  about  this  lime,  or  during  the  third  year  of  my 
course,  that  1  indulged  in  a  reading  which  certainly  exert- 
ed some  influence  upon  my  preparations  a-s  a  minister  of 
the  Gospel,  and  which  therefore  deserves  to  be  taken  no- 
tice of  in  this  place.  An  accident  brought  into  my  hands 
the  Passion  Sermons  of  Saurin,  as  translated  by  Heyer. 
Saurin  had  been  mentioned  to  me  by  my  father  as   one  of  \ 

the  most  excellent  of  preachers.  In  this  case,  therefore, 
I  naturally  found  it  a  pleasure  to  make  an  exception  to  the 
custom  which  I  had  hitherto  observed,  of  reading  no  ser- 
mons. I  found  them  well  planned,  and  accurately  divid- 
ed into  heads,  divisions  and  subdivisions.  This  was  as 
I  supposed  every  sermon  should  be.  In  this  respect,  there- 
fore, I  found  them  approximate  nearer  to  the  pattern  of  s^ 


^■: 


LETTER    V. 


35 


perfect  sermon  which  lay  in  my  mind,  than  any  I  had  ever 
heard.  The  lively  turns  too,  which  Saurin  gives  his 
address,  and  the  flowers  with  which  he  bestrews  every 
thing,  likewise  produced  their  effects.  Of  course  I  was 
delighted  with  him  ;  and  hence,  1  felt  as  though  1  ought 
to  take  him  for  a  pattern  ;  and  a  sermon  delivered  this 
year  from  the  customary  lesson  in  the  parish  church  at 
Wittemberg,  on  Mary's  Visitation,  and  printed  at  the  re- 
quest of  many  who  heard  it,  exhibits  evident  marks  of  the 
attempts  I  made  to  imitate  him.  It  is  now  as  may  easily 
be  supposed,  nearly  unknown.  It  afforded  a  proof  how- 
ever, as  regards  its  dress,  that  Saurin  was  in  my  mind  as  a 
pattern,  and  that  I  was  a  zealous  Crusian  and  had  made 
myself  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  Prophetical  Theol- 
ogy of  my  master. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  period  drew  near,  in  which  as  I 
supposed,  I  should  be  oljliged  to  leave  the  university. 
Accordingly,  towards  Michaelmass,  of  the  year  1777,  I 
was  intending  to  return  home  to  my  native  country  ;  and 
shortly  before' that  time,  he  who  had  hitlierto  been  my 
guardian,  and  taken  care  of  my  little  property,  sent  me 
the  remainder  of  it  for  supplying  the  expenses  of  the 
journey.  About  this  time,  however,  those  teachers  who 
knew  me  best,  particularly  Schmid,  Dresde  and  Schrockh, 
gave  me  an  earnest  request  to  remain  and  apply  to  the 
business  of  acadeniical  instruction.  I  made  objections, 
alleging  that  I  knew  not  upon  what  I  should  live ;  but  they 
were  removed  by  the  prospects  which  were  held  out  to  me 
of  receiving  support  from  various  quarters,  as  soon  as  I 
had  qualified  myself  for  the  work.  In  short,  I  was  over 
-ruled  by  the  authority  of  these  men,  and  the  inclination 
which  had  been  awakened  in  me  during  the  last  half  year 
of  my  residence  at  Wittemberg,  for  a  university  life  ;  and 
I  immediately  employed  the  money  which  had  been  sent  to 
me  for  the  expenses  of  my  journey  into  the  Upper  Palat- 
inate, for  the  purpose  of  qualifying  myself  towards  the 
end  ©f  another  year,  for  entering  upon  a  course  in  which 
nothing  was  to  be  expected  but  pain  and  trouble.  In  so 
doing,  you  will  observe,  my  dear  friend,  that  I  entered  a 
path  which  not  only  might  at  first,  but  which  unavoidably 
did,  lead  me   away  from  the  business  of  preaching.     Jn 


36  LETTER    VI. 

my  next  letter,  however,  before  I  speak  of  my  academical 
career,  you  must  expect  from  me  some  general  remarks 
respecting  the  education  which  I  had  hitherto  received^ 
preparatory  to  becoming  a  minister  of  the  Gospel.  Fare- 
well. 


LETTER    VI. 

Points  out  the  defects  of  his  education — Exculpates  himself  for  them  in  pari 
— Warns  young  students  against  them — Means  by  which  he  provided  for 
their  remedy. 

My  Dear  Friend — 

You  have  the  strongest  reason  to  be  astonished  at  the 
manner  in  which  from  my  own  account,  it  seems,  I  pursu- 
ed my  theological  studies ;  directed  as  ihey  were  by  no 
rational  method,  and  full  of  frightful  chasms.  I  absolute- 
ly inverted  the  order  of  things  by  attending  to  doctrinal 
theology  in  the  first  year,  and  putting  off  church  history 
until  the  third.  It  was  a  very  great  defect  that  I  attended 
no  lectures  upon  ancient  literature,  universal  history,  or 
physics.  It  was  a  still  greater  defect,  that  I  attended  none 
upon  homiletics,  pastoral  theology,  or  canon  law.  And, 
finally,  it  was  altogether  unpardonable  in  me,  to  neglect 
every  thing  like  a  lecture  upon  philosophical  and  theologi- 
cal ethics  ;  in  doing  which,  I  overlooked  the  most  indis- 
pensable [)art  of  a  preparation  for  the  sacred  office. 

The  guilt  of  all  these  faults,  however,  does  not  rest  en- 
tirely upon  me.  When  I  entered  the  university,  I  sup- 
posed, as  I  lately  informed  you,  that  it  would  be  impossi- 
ble for  me  to  remain  there  longer  than  two  years  at  the 
farthest.  With  all  the  lectures,  therefore,  which  I  wish- 
ed to  hear,  it  would  have  been  useless  for  me  to  think  of 


LETTER   VI.  37 

observing  a  method  which  would  have  required  more  time. 
I  was  obliged  as  it  were  to  snatch  at  what  came  along  and 
secure  it  upon  the  spot.  To  this  it  should  be  added,  that 
the  course  of  theological  instruction  at  Wittemberg  during 
the  three  first  years  of  my  residence  there,  was  in  reality 
very  defective.  I  should  certainly  have  attended  to  phi- 
losophical and  theological  ethics,  if  an  opportunity  had 
been  presented  me  for  hearing  suitable  lectures  upon 
these  sciences.  It  is  true,  that  Schmid  contemplated  lec- 
turing upon  both  of  them ;  upon  the  former,  according  to 
Crusius'  Directions  for  living  a  rational  life  /"^  upon  the 
latter,  according  to  Rehkopf's  Abstract  of  Crusius'*  moral 
philosophy  ;\  but  neither  was  brought  about.  It  was 
equally  impossible  for  me  to  hear  any  thing  of  value  upon 
homiletics  and  pastoral  theology.  The  aged  Hoffmann 
indeed,  who  was  general  superintendent,  read  a  pastoral, 
soon  after  my  aruival  at  Wittemberg  ;  but  I  felt  as  if  it 
would  be  highly  inverting  the  order  of  things  to  listen  to 
this  lecture  then ;  and  besides,  the  old  man  was  so  weak, 
that  he  could  not  go  on,  and  in  the  following  year  he  died. 
I  might  have  attended  to  canon  law,  but  1  did  not,  as 
there  were  things  more  necessary  which  I  wished  to  learn. 
With  homiletics  I  thought  I  should  be  able  to  dispense,  as  I 
had  already  studied  rhetoric  at  school.  Professor  Titius 
began  a  course  of  lectures  upon  physics,  which  I  attended 
as  far  as  he  went,  but  he  was  obliged  to  discondnue  it  for . 
want  of  a  sufficient  number  of  hearers.  I  committed  a 
much  greater  error,  however,  in  neglecting  Schrockh's  lec- 
tures upon  universal  history.  I  must  confess,  that  I  was  atfirst 
£lled  with  prejudice  against  the  man;  and  when  this  was 
removed,  it  was  too  late.  It  is  a  source  of  satisfaction 
that  I  was  able  nevertheless  to  availmyself  of  the  use  of  his 
lectures,  upon  church  history.  It  is  probable,  however, 
that  the  want  of  lectures  upon  universal  history,  was  far 
less  injurious  to  me  from  the  fact,  that  I  began  to  read,  I 
may  almost  say,  to  devour,  Bossuet's  work  upon  the  history 
of  the  world  according  to  Cramer's  translanon  and  with 
Cramer's  additions,  even  while  at  Regensburg;  the  study  of 
which  I  kept  up  at  the  university. 

*  Anweisungvernttnftig  zu  leben. 
t  Auszug  aus  Crusii  Moraltheologie. 

4 


3?  LETTER    VI. 

With  all  my  heart,  however,  must  I  warn  young  stu- 
dents for  the  ministry  to  guard  against  the  errors  w-fiich  I 
here  confess,  and  earnestly  beg  them  to  attend  to  the  ac- 
quisition of  the  theological  sciences  in  as  perfect  and  me- 
thodical a  manner,  as  time  and  circumstances  will  admit. 
Had  I  pursued  my  studies  with  less  irregularity  and  ob- 
tained a  knowledge  of  the  sciences  in  their  natural  order, 
I  should  have  found  my  way  much  easier,  and  been  able, 
without  special  diligence  or  effort,  to  acquire  a  degree  of 
perfection,  the  attainment  of  which  with  the  most  strenuous 
exertions,  I  was  afterwards  scarcely  able  to  effect.  1  hope, 
however,  that  no  student  will  find  himself  so  destitute  of 
opportunities  for  attending  to  every  necessary  branch  of 
knowledge  in  its  proper  place,  as  I  actually  was.  The 
circumstances  in  which  I  lived,  were  altogether  unfavora- 
ble to  me  in  this  respect. 

'  You  ask  me,  my  dear  friend,  in  your  letter,  by  what 
means  I  have  endeavored  to  remedy  the  consequences  of 
so  defective  an  education,  and  actually  succeeded  in  pre- 
venting them  from  becomings  more  conspicuous.  Upon 
this  point  I  can  give  you  some  information.  Let  me  be- 
gin with  that  knowledge  which  particularly  concerns  us  in 
the  present  case. 

I  have  never  had  any  instruction  in  homiletics,  or  taken 
any  part  in  homiletic  exercises.  This  perhaps  is  evident 
from  my  sermons.  Their  division  and  arrangement  may 
be  very  defective  in  comparison  with  what  they  ought  to 
be,  according  to  the  rules  of  homiletics.  That  without  a 
knowledge  of  these  rules,  I  have  been  able  to  produce  so 
many  sermons  and  give  them  at  least  a  tolerable  form,  ii 
owing  to  the  diligence  with  which  I  read  the  ancient  ora- 
tors and  rhetoricians,  and  the  no  less  diligence  with  which 
I  applied  myself  to  philosophy.  I  had  early  made  myself 
acquainted  with  the  old  systems  of  eloquence,  particularly 
those  of  Cicero,  at  school.  When  at  the  university,  I 
not  only  read  them  again,  but  with  them  connected  Quin- 
tilian  and  Aristotle.  With  the  theories  of  the  ancients 
respecting  eloquence,  I  compared  their  discourses,  partic- 
ularly those  of  Isocrates,  Demosthenes,  Aeschines,  Lysias 
and  Cicero  ;  and  I  have  always  thought,  that  the  study  of 


.si 


LETTER   VI. 


39 


these  proved  of  more  use  to  me  than  lectures  upon  hom- 
iletics  would  have  done. 

Here  I  must  remark,  that  it  was  reading  the  ancients 
which  formed  in  me  that  idea  of  genuine  eloquence  which 
afterwards  always  remained  with  me,  which  still  appears 
to  be  the  only  true  one,  and  which  in  my  labors  1  have 
ever  endeavored 'to  keep  before  me,  though  I  have  come 
far  short  of  it.  I  spent  some  years  at  the  university  be-' 
fore  I  became  acquainted  with  the  Grecian  orators.  Un- 
til then,  my  notions  of  eloquence  were  drawn  chiefly  from 
Cicero's  works.  I  looked  upon  him  with  admiration  as 
the  greatest  master  in  this  department,  excepting,  that, 
on  comparing  him  with  the  concise  Haller  overflowing 
with  thought,  I  could  not  avoid  occasionally  pronouncing 
him  somewliat  verbose.^" 

Excited  by  him,  I  finally  began  to  read  the  Grecian 
orators  ;  and  how  astonished  I  was  on  finding  in  the  most 
celebrated  orator  of  all  antiquity,  a  man,  who,  for  accom- 
plishing his  object  and  producing  the  greatest  eiFects,  never 
uses  a  single  flower  or  far-fetched  expression,  a  conceited 
and  remarkable  phrase,  or  any  thing  that  bears  the  least 
resemblance  to  poetical  prose  ; — who,  on  the  other  hand, 
says  and  delivers  every  thing  in  those  terms  which  are  the 
most  natural,  correctly  distinguishing  and  strikingly  de- 
scriptive,— -and  hence,  a  man,  in  whom  are  to  be  discov- 
ered no  traces  of  affectation,  or  struggling  after  wit  and 
surprising  turns,  or  of  that  audacity  so  pleasing  to  many, 
and  said  to  be  the  companion  of  genius ; — a  man,  on  the 
contrary,  who  chains  the  attention  of  his  hearers  by  a  dic- 
tion, strong,  manly,  and  unincumbered  with  a  single  super- 
fluous word  ;  who  overpowers,  as  it  were,  the  understand- 
ing by  the  strength  of  his  thoughts,  the  force  of  his  rea- 
sons, and  the  superiority  with  which  he  develops  them  ; 
and  finally,  bears  every  thing  away  with  him  by  means  of 
an  eloquence  which  rolls  forth  in  periods,  which  are  per- 
fect in  themselves,  are  harmonious,  and  fill  the  ear.f 

*  Many  of  the  ancients  censured  him,  ut  tumidiorem,et  Asianum,  et  redun- 
dantem,  etin  rertelitionibus  nimium.     See  QuiiUilian,  Institut.  Orat.  1.  XII.  c. 

10,  §  n. 

t  Cuius  non  tarn  vibrarent  fulmina  ilia,  nisi  numeris  contorta  ferrentur,  says 
Cicero  of  him,  Orat.  c.  70. 


40  LETTER    VI. 

The  more  I  read  this  orator,  the  clearer  it  appeared  to 
me^  that  true  eloquence  is  something  entirely  different  froni 
an  artificial  fluency  of  speech  ;  something  entirely  differ- 
ent from  playing  with  antitheses  and  witty  expressions ; 
something  entirely  different  from  poetical  prose,  or  as  Kant 
calls  it,  prose  run  mad  ;  and  finally,  something  entirely  dif- 
ferent from  that  storminess  and  vehemence,  that  sputter- 
ing and  foaming,  and  that  bombast  and  turgidness,  at  which 
the  great  mass  of  the  people  are  astonished  because  of 
their  ignorance.  If  then,  said  I  to  myself,  for  this  was  the 
inference  which  I  drew,  if  then  I  can  so  speak  in  the  pul- 
pit that  my  discourse  shall  always  constitute  a  well  arrang- 
ed whole,  firmly  united  in  all  its  parts,  and  continued  in 
the  most  natural  order  ;  if  I  can  always  bring  forward 
such  matter  as  stands  in  close  connexion  with  the  most 
important  concerns  of  my  hearers  and  is  of  utility  to  them 
in  practical  life ;  if  I  can  do  this  so  that  every  thought 
shall  always  be  clothed  in  those  words,  which,  of  all  the 
treasures  of  the  language,  distinguish  it  in  the  best  and 
most  striking  manner  ;  if  consequently,  I  can  in  teaching 
always  find  the  most  intelligible,  in  writing  the  most  obvi-  | 

ous,  in  admonishing  the  most  powerful,  in  warning  the  '| 

most  terrific,  in  consoling  the  most  comforting,  expres- 
sions ;  if  I  can  avail  myself  of  language  so  that  every 
shading  of  the  thoughts,  every  turn  of  the  feelings,  every 
climax  of  the  passions,  shall  be  rendered  manifest  by  it, 
and  always  made  to  touch  those  cords  of  the  heart  which 
they  ought  to  do ;  finally,  if  I  can  procure  for  my  dis- 
course a  fulness  without  bombast,  an  euphony  without  ar- 
tificial rhythm,  and  an  easy  uninterrupted  current  which 
overflows,  pouring  itself  as  it  were  into  the  ear  and  the 
['.eart ; — if  I  can  do  all  this,  it  will  constitute  the  eloquence 
which  is  adapted  to  the  pulpit.  Then  my  discourse  will 
be  clear  for  the  intellect,  easy  to  be  remembered,  exciting 
to  the  feelings  and  captivating  to  the  heart.  Then  I  shall 
speak  of  religion  with  that  perfect  simplicity,  exalted  dig- 
nity, and  benevolent  warmth,  with  which  we  ought  always 
to  speak  of  it. 

The  idea  of  genuine  eloquence  thus  drawn  out  of  the 
ancients  in  general,  but  out  of  Cicero  and  Demosthenes  in 
particular,  became  so  thoroughly  my  own,  that  nothing 


*  LETTER   VI.  41 

could  please  me  which  did  not  accord  with  it ;  and  it  con- 
stituted the  ideal  perfection  at  which  1  afterwards  aimed  in 
working  out  my  own  sermons.  That  on  the  other  hand, 
I  said  that  no  use  could  or  ought  to  be  made  by  the  reli- 
s,ious  teacher,  of  those  arts  of  which  the  ancients  availed 
themselves  in  their  oratory,  for  the  purpose  of  giving  a 
good  appearance  to  the  vilest  cause,  infatuating  the  hear- 
ers with  dazzling  things,  and  inducing  them  to  engage  in 
rash  undertakings  by  exciting  their  passions,  will,  I  pre- 
sume, be  taken  for  granted.  It  is  true,  that  that  part  of  an- 
cient eloquence  which  cari  be  retained  in  the  pulpit,  had 
not  then  been  so  acutely  and  happily  pointed  out  as  it  has 
been  of  late  by  Schott,  in  his  Sketch  of  a  theory  of  elo- 
quence, with  a  particular  application  to  pulpit  eloquence."^ 
The  ancient  rhetoricians,  however,  speak  of  the  dishonest 
artifices  of  which  orators  were  obliged  to  avail  themselves 
both  on  the  stage,  and  before  the  tribunal,  with  so  much 
frankness,  that  one  must  immediately  fee\  them  to  be  nei- 
ther practicable  nor  necessary  in  matters  of  religion. 

The  want  of  instruction  in  homiletics,  however,  and  the 
omission  of  homiletic  exercises  was  rendered   uninjurious 
to  me  in  particular,  by  the  study  of  philosophy.     I  cannot 
deny,  that  the  philosophical   sciences,  for  which,  while  at 
school  I  felt  no  inclination,  presented  me   with  irresistible 
attractions,  as  soon  as  I  began  to   attend  to  them   at  the 
university.     It  was  not  long  before  I  esteemed  them  for 
their  own  sake.     Without  thinking  of  any  use  to  which  I 
could  apply  them,  under  the  influence  of  a  love  of  the 
truth,  I  made  them  an   object  of  study  and  became  filled 
with  a  sense  of  their  immense  importance.     Almost  every 
day  convinced    me  of  the   necessity    of  searching   after 
something  tangible  and  pacifying  in  this  respect,  and  drove 
me  on  to  new  and  incessant  exertions.     Even  w^hile  a  stu- 
dent, therefore,  I  devoted  a  great  part  of  my  time  to  phi- 
losophy,  and  exerted  all  my  strength  to  form  an  intimate 
acquaintance  with  the  philosophemes  of  the  acute  Crusius, 
in  air  their  extent.     As,  in  addition   to  this,  I  afterwards 
began  to  teach  philosophy  and  was  obliged  to  lecture  upon 

*  Kurzer  Entwurf  einerTheoriederBeredtsamkeit  mit  besondrer  Anwend- 
«ng  auf  die  Canzelberedtsamkeit  5  Leips.,  1807. 

*4 


42  LETTER   VI. 

it,  so,  for  several  years,  it  constituted,  as  I  shall  hereafter 
remark,  my  principal  occupation.  To  calculate  the  ad- 
vantage I  should  derive  from  this  zealous  and  uninterrupt- 
ed attention  to  philosophy  as  an  exercise  preparatory  to 
preaching,  was  a  thing  I  never  thought  of,  being  then  in- 
fluenced by  ray  love  for  the  study  itself.  It  was  not  until 
afterwards,  that  I  perceived  I  could  not  have  gone  through 
better  exercises  preparatory  to  entering  upon  the  sacred 
office. 

Having  by  the  diligent  and  long-continued  study  of  phi- 
losophy, become  acquainted  with  an  immense  number  of 
subjects  standing  in  various  and  intimate  relations  to  Chris- 
tianity, it  was  not  easy  for  me  to  be  troubled  with  a  want 
of  materials  when  1  began  to  preach.      Having  also  accus- 
tomed myself  to  treat  every  thing  methodically  and  agree- 
ably to  the  rules  of  logic,  and  thus  gradually  acquired  the 
power  of  apprehending  the  connexion,   organization,  and 
various  relations  of  all  svstems,  it  was  not  easier  for  me  to 
form  the  plan  of  a  sermon  or  handle  a  religious  doctrine, 
without  order.     In  short,  that  activity  of  thought  which 
enables  a  man  to  become  perfect  master  of  his  subject, 
whatever  it  may  be,  and  mould  it  according  to  his  pleasure, 
can  be  acquired   only  by  the  study  of  philosophy  ;  but  a 
small  share  of  this  skill  will  enable  any  one  who  possesses 
it,  to  form  the  plan  of  a  sermon  with  facility.     If  therefore 
there  is  any  thing  indispensable  to  a  preparation  for  the 
ministerial  office,  it  is,  in  my  opinion,  the  study  of  philoso- 
phy.    Not  indeed  that  I  would  introduce  philosophy  into 
the  pulpit,  or  give  myself  up  to  vain  speculations;  but  in 
part,  because  it  furnishes  a  man  with  a  large  stock  of  ma- 
terials, and  in  part,  because  it  enables  one  to  treat  every 
subject  in  a  clear  and  radical  manner,   and  agreeably  to 
the  circumstances  and  relations  of  the  time  and  place.* 
No  one  will,  in  reality,  be  able  to  speak  upon  religious 
truths  in  a  manner  clear,  simple,   easy,   and   intelligible, 
without  having  a  genuine  philosophical  knowledge  of  them, 

•  Nee  vero  sine  philosophorum  disciplina  genus  et  speciem  cuiusque  rei  cer- 
nere,  neque  earn  definiendo  explicare,  nee  tribuere  in  paries  possumus  5  nee 
iudicare,  quae  vera,  quae  falsa  sint ;  neque  cernere  consequentia,  repugnan- 
tia  videre,  ambigua  distinguere.  Quid  dicam  de  natura  rerum,  cuius  cognitip 
magnara  orationi  suppeditat  copiam  j  de  vita,  de  officiis,  de  virtute,  de  mori- 
bus,  sine  multa  earum  ipsarum  rerum  disciplina  aut  dici,  aut  intelligi  potest  % 
Cicero  in  Orator,  c  6. 


i 


LETTER     VI.      '  43 

tind  being  complete  master  of  all  ideas  connected  with 
them.  He  therefore  who  has  not  received  a  philosophical 
education,  though  he  may  become  a  verbose  chatterer, 
never  can  become  a  good  preacher.  His  defects  in  this 
respect  cannot  be  supplied  by  high  sounding  phrases,  or 
pious,  smoothly  flowing  and  luxuriant  forms  of  expression. 
He  will,  at  most,  but  dazzle  for  a  while  the  great  mass  of 
the  people,  without  doing  justice  to  his  intelligent  hearers^ 
or  successfully  accomplishing  the  true  object  of  the  minis- 
terial office.* 

Finally,  the  zeal  with  which  I  applied  myself  to  philos- 
ophy, furnished  an  excellent  remedy  for  the  defects  of  my 
not  having  attended  either  to  philosophical  or  theological 
ethics.  As  I  was  anxious  to  become  acquainted  with  phi- 
losophy in  its  whole  extent,  and  was  ultimately  called  upoa 
to  teach  it,  so  I  was  obliged  to  make  myself  familiar  with 
its  practical  parts,  as  well  as  its  theoretical.  Accordingly, 
by  my  own  diligence,  I  supplied  the  defects  of  my  origi- 
nal education.  And  here  also  my  love  of  ancient  litera- 
ture turned  to  good  account.  With  the  systematic  study 
of  practical  philosophy  I  began  occasionally  to  combine 
reading  the  ancient  moralists ;  particularly  Plato,  Aristotle, 
Arrian,  Plutarch,  and  Seneca.  He  who  is  acquainted 
with  these  writers,  knows  what  treasures  of  moral  truths 
are  heaped  together  in  their  works,  and  what  life,  power, 
and  practical  utility,  may  be  derived  from  a  systematic 
knowledge  of  ethics,  if  with  it  we  combine  a  profitable 
reading  of  these  writers.  Many  of  them,  particularly  the 
Dissertationes  Epicteteae  of  Arrian,  the  moral  treatises  of 
Plutarch,  and  some  works  of  Seneca,  became  of  so  much 
importance  to  me  in  these  circumstances,  that  I  read  them 
often,  and  always  with  additional  profit  in  respect  to  the 
enlargement  and  correction  of  my  ethical  information.  In 
general,  practical  philosophy  became  more  interesting  to 
me,  the  longer  I  occupied  myself  with  it.  Afterwards,  I 
gradually  passed  over  to  the  best  moralists  of  modern 
times ;  and,  what  proved  of  very  great  usefulness  to  me,, 
began  to  read  the  best  historians  and  poets  of  every  age,. 

•  Here  we  may  adduce  the  testimony  of  a  man  who  knew  best  what  was 
safest  for  an  orator :  "  Fateor,"  says  Cicero,  "  me  oratorem,  si  modo  sim,  aul 
etiam  quicunque  sim,  non  ex  rhetorum  oflBciois,  sed  ex  acaderaiae  spaliis  e»- 
stitisse,"    Orat.  c.  4. 


\ 


41         .  LETTER     VI. 

with  an  exclusive  reference  to  ethics/^  That  this  course 
very  much  facilitated  the  execution  of  the  work  upon 
Christian  ethics,  in  which,  bv  virtue  of  mv  office  as  teach- 
er  of  theology,  1  was  obliged  to  engage,  is  self-evident. 
My  system  of  Christian  morality  every  where  exhibits 
marks  of  the  great  influence  exerted  upon  me  by  these 
preparatory  exercises ;  and  reference  is  every  where  made 
10  the  writers  to  whom  1  am  the  most  indebted. 

I  did  not  perceive  all  the  benefit  I  had  derived  from  this 
method  of  studying  morality,  however,  until  I  began  to 
preach.  That  the  preacher  must  possess  a  systematic 
knowledge  of  morality,  if  he  would  go  to  the  foundation  in 
handling  moral  truths,  is  unquestionable. y  This,  of  itself, 
however,  is  by  no  means  sufficient.  The  preacher  must 
l^e  acquainted  with  the  human  heart,  and  familiar  with  all 
its  movements,  inclinations,  and  artifices.  He  must  have 
examined  the  various  dispositions  and  characters  of  men, 
and  must  know  what  difficulties  and  hindrances  stand  op- 
posed to  the  practice  of  godliness  in  general,  and  virtue  in 
particular.  He  must  have  the  most  salutary  advice  at 
hand  requisite  for  every  case,  and,  in  short,  what  is  and 
always  will  be,  of  the  most  importance  in  his  circumstan- 
ces, be  possessed  o^ practical  wisdotn.  That  the  only  way 
of  acquiring  this,  is,  by  paying  incessant  attention  to  one's 
own  heart,  and  those  things  which  we  find  opportunity  to 
notice,  connected  with  a  diligent  reading  of  those  authors 
who  have  shown  themselves  well  acquainted  with  human 
nature,  and  written  expressly  for  life,  needs  no  proof. 
Among  these,  however,  the  old  classic  authors  maintain  so 
high  a  rank,  that  few  others  can  be  compared  with  them. 

1  frankly  admit,  therefore,  that  they  and  their  best  mo- 
ralists, in  connexion  with  the  Bible,  which  I  read  inces- 
santly, constituted  my  preacher's  magazine.  By  them  I 
have  been  led  to  a  multitude  of  reflections,  not  only  of 
practical  utility,  but  very  great  importance.  By  them  I 
have  been  enabled  to  find  a  thousand  things  in  the  moral 
precepts  of  the  Bible,  which,  without  this  index,  would 
forever  have  escaped  me.  1  have  no  fears,  my  dear  friend, 

*  Quintilian,  InstUut.  Orator.  1.  XII.  c.  4, 

■j-  Hence,  Quintilian  wished  to  have  ethics  included  in  rhetoric.  Instit.  Orato. 
1.  XII.  c.  2;  ^  9  seqq. 


LETTER  VII. 


45 


of  your  taking  offence  at  this  confession.  The  truth  al- 
ways remains  the  truth  whenever  and  wherever  it  may  be 
found ;  and  should  not  a  preacher  of  the  present  day,  draw 
from  those  very  same  sources  from  which  the  most  judi- 
cious fathers  of  the  ancient  church  and  its  best  preachers, 
agreeably  to  their  own  confessions,  rejoiced  to  draw  so 
much  that  was  useful  ?^  But  enough  of  the  years  I  devot- 
ed to  study.  As  soon  as  1  have  more  time  to  spare,  I  will 
give  you  some  fariher  information  respecting  the  com- 
mencement of  my  academical  career,  and  the  influence 
which  it  probably  exerted  upon  my  education,  preparatory 
to  becoming  a  preacher.     Farewell. 


LETTER    VII. 

Pnepares  for  teaching- — Lectures — Becomes  Professor  Extraordinary  of  Phi- 
losophy, Professor  Ordinary  of  Theology,  and  Provost  of  the  Castle  Church 
— Passes  through  a  painful  mental  struggle — Preserved  from  skepticism  by 
respect  for  the  Bible  and  for  morality— The  efifect  of  all  this  on  his  ministe- 
rial education. 

Mr  Dear  Friend — 

Permit  me  to  give  you  a  very  short  account  of  the 
changes  I  passed  through  from  the  commencement  of  my 
duties  as  academical  teacher,  until  I  was  intrusted  with 
the  ministerial  office.  It  will  then  be  easy  for  us  to  ascer- 
tain in  what  respects  they  contributed  to  prepare  me  for 
that  office. 

*The  oration  of  Basilius  the  Great,  Ad  adolescentes  de  mode,  e  Uteris  Grae- 
cis  utilitatem  percipiendi,  is  known.  Comp.  Krebsen's  Abhandlung  Ober 
diese  Schrift,  in  the  Opuscula  academica  et  scholastica,  p.398ss,,  which  Sturz 
has  printed  with  his  edition  of  the  above  named  oration.  ''  Philosophi  autem," 
says  Augustin,  "  qui  vocantur,  si  qua  forte  vera  et  fidei  nostrae  accommodata 
dixerunt,  maxime  Platonici,  non  solum  formidanda  non  sunt,  sed  ab  eis  etiam, 
tamquam  iniustis  possessoribus,  in  usum  nostrum  vLndicanda."  De  doctrina 
Christiana,  1,  II.  c,  40. 


46 


LETTER  VII. 


In  Nov.  1777,  I  went  about  qualifying  myself  for  the 
work  before   me,   and   devoted  from  that  time  until  the 
Easter  of  1778,  to  preparing  the  lectures  which  I  intended 
to  deliver.     These  lectures,  which  treated  of  philosophical 
and  philological  subjects,  attracted  so  many  hearers,  that 
I  was  encouraged  to  continue  them ;  and  being  requested 
by  many  of  my  hearers  to  lecture  upon  theology  also,  in 
Nov.  of  the  year  1778,  1  took  the  degree  of  Bachelor  of 
Theology,  necessary  for  this  purpose.     In  1780, 1  was  ap- 
pointed Professor  Extraordinary  of  Philosophy.  With  ex- 
press reference  to  this  appointment,  I  then  devoted  by  far 
the  greatest  part  of  my  time  to  the  philosophical  sciences, 
though  my  hearers  induced  me  to  alternate  some  theologi- 
cal lectures  with  the  philosophical.     Scarcely  had  I  sus- 
tained the  office  of  Professor  Extraordinary  of  Philosophy 
for  two  years,  when  I  was  called  to  become  Professor  Or- 
dinary of  Theology,  with  the  express  reserve,  however,  of 
my  former  professorship.     Accordingly,  in  Nov.,  1782,  I 
became  Doctor  of  Theology,  and  in  Dec.    of  the  same 
year,  entered  upon  the  duties  of  my  new  office.     From 
this  time  onward,   my  attention  was  divided  between   phi- 
losophy and   theology,  as  I  was  called  upon  to  teach  both 
of  these  sciences ;  and  as,  excited  by  the  number,  zeal, 
and  adherence  of  my  auditors,  I  read  from  four  to  five  or 
even  more  lectures,   a  day,   it  was  not  long  before  I  had 
occasion  to  go  through  with  the  substance  of  both  depart- 
ments.    In  this  manner  I  had  labored  but  two  years,  when 
I  received  the  office  of  Provost  of  the  Castle  or  University 
Church,  and  of  course,  that  of  preacher,  upon  which  I  ac- 
tually entered  on   the  feast  of  Mary's   Annunciation,   in 
1784.     In  addition  to  my  professorial  duties,  therefore,  I 
had  now  all  at  once  become  obligated  to  deliver  a  sermon 
in  the  University  Church,  on  the  forenoon  of  every  Sab- 
bath and  festival.     Before  I  say  any  thing  of  my  labors  as 
provost,  however,  let  us  go  back,  my  dear  friend,  to  the 
commencement  of  those  years,   of  whose  changes  I  have 
given   you  so  cursory  a  survey,   in  order  to  see  what  was 
done   during  this  time  to  prepare  me  for  the  business  of 
preaching,  and  ensure  me  some  success  in  the  ministerial 
office. 

From  1778  to  1784, 1  did  not,  I  may  say,  exercise  my-« 


LETTER  VII.      '  47 

self  in  preaching,  at  all ;  for  during  this  period,  I  certainly 
did  noi  preach  more  than  four  times  at  the  farthest ;  and 
one  of  these,  was,  when  I  became  Doctor  of  Theology. 
This  is  easy  to  be  accounted  for.     During  this  period,  I 
was  not  obliged  to  preach  either  as  a  matter  of  duty  or 
office ;  and  "having  enough  to  do  widi  the  sciences,  the 
principles  of  which  I  wished  thoroughly  to  investigate,  and 
then  exhibit  in  the  clearest  and  best  manner,  I  could  not 
think  of  entering  the  pulpit.     Besides,  so  long  as  I  was 
Professor  Extraordinary  of  Philosophy,  I  was  uncertain 
whether  I  should  not  entirely  and  forever  exchange  the 
pulpit  for  the  philosophical  chair.    At  least,  I  had  so  much 
to  do  with  the  latter  and  for  it,  that  I  lost  the  former  en- 
tirely out  of  view.     I  did  indeed  conduct  exercises  in  a 
small  society  and  at  hs  request,  in  the  composition  and 
delivery  of  sermons;  and  in  particular,  give  some  general 
directions  respecting  their  proper  construction.     These, 
however,  were  out  of  the  usual  course,  and  soon  brought 
to  a  close  by  the  gradual  dispersion  of  the  society.     With 
res:ular  exercises  of  this  kind,  I  absolutely  had  nothing  to 
do,  during  this  period. 

And  here,  my  dear  friend,  I  cannot  avoid  giving  you  a 
description  of  the  internal  struggle  so  singular,  and,  in  re- 
spect to  my  whole  learned  education,  so  important,  through 
which  I  passed,  in  the  first  years  of  my  academical  career. 
I  have  told  you  that  I  was  a  zealous  Crusian  when  I  be- 
gan to  deliver  lectures.     If  1  had  not  been,  I  should  not 
have  taken  the  trouble  which  I  actually  did,  to  acquire  a 
thorough  knowledge  of  the  system  of  this  somewhat  heavy 
philosopher.     Accordingly,  I  adopted  it  in  my  first  lec- 
,  lures.     In  so  doing,  however,  I  felt  myself  under  a  press- 
ing necessity  to  become  acquainted  also  with  other  philo- 
sophical systems  ;  in  part,  for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining 
what  the  best  geniuses  of  every  age  had  thought  respect- 
ing the  great  problems  which  philosophy  has  to  solve ;  and 
m  part,  because  I  saw  that  my  own  views  could  not  be  ♦ 
thorough  and  satisfactory  until  I  had  taken  such  a  survey, 
and  become  acquainted  with  opposing  systems.     Hence,  I 
began  with  great  zeal  to  look  into  the  most  celebrated  sys- 
tems of  the  ancient  and  modern  world,  and  in  particular, 
to  read  the  various  authors  extant  upon  every  system. 


48  LETTER  Vll. 

\ 

But  how  astonished  I  was,  and  overwhelmed  with  em- 
barrassment, when,  in  this  course  of  study,  I  discovered  a 
multitude  of  weak  parts  in  my  own  system,  of  which  I 
had  before  had  no  suspicion.  In  proportion  as  my  philo- 
sophical views  were  extended,  I  learned,  that  many  things 
could  be  said  in  favor  of  those  positions,  which,  to  the  par- 
tial Crusians,  had  either  appeared  absurd,  or  highly  dan- 
gerous ;  the  stronger  I  began  to  feel  that  every  system  con- 
tains something  true  and  good  ;  that  in  every  one,  human 
reason  exhibits  itself  in  some  peculiar  way,  and  hence, 
that  every  one  is  deserving  of  investigation  and  respect ; 
the  more  doubts  arose  in  my  mind ;  the  more  uncertain 
the  -ground  became,  upon  which  I  before  believed  myself 
standing  with  such  firmness  ;  and  finally,  it  came  to  such  a 
pass,  (for  why  should  I  not  confess  to  you  the  truth,) — it 
came  to  such  a  pass,  that  I  had  nothing  firm  under  my 
feet ;  that  I  was  involved  in  the  mazes  of  discordant  spec- 
ulations, and  fluttering  as  it  were  in  the  air,  without  know- 
ing any  longer  where  to  find  the  ground. 

About  this  time,  disputes  became  more  and  more  gen- 
eral in  the  theological  world,  and  not  only  threatened  to 
shake  doctrinal  theology  in  particular,  but  actually  to  over- 
turn it.  These  greatly  added  to  the  perplexity  of  my  in- 
ternal fermentation,  and  sometimes  increased  it  to  the  most 
painful  disquietude. 

Neither  my  conscience  nor  my  heart,  however,  would 
suffer  me  to  remain  ignorant  of  these  disputes  and  discus- 
sions. The  question.  What  connexion  has  philosophy 
with  revelation,  and  how  can  the  two  be  reconciled  togeth- 
er ?  had  always  been  an  interesting  and  important  one  to 
me,  and  it  became  increasingly  so,  from  the  moment  I  was 
called  to  deliver  lectures  upon  theology.  It  is  in  vain  for 
me  to  attempt  to  give  you  a  description  of  the  sad  strug- 
gle in  which  I  saw  myself  involved  every  morning ; — a 
struggle  which  was  renewed  with  every  preparation  I  made 
for  lecturing,  and  as  often  accompanied  with  the  greatest 
helplessness  and  embarrassment.  The.idea  of  saying  any 
thing  which  should  infect  the  youth  with  pernicious  error, 
filled  me  with  trembling ;  and  yet  I  had  to  speak  of  a 
thousand  things  respecting  which  I  was  obliged  to  explain 
myself  with  such  problematicalness,  as  to  render  a  convic» 


LETTER  Vll.  49 

tion  of  the  truth  impossible.  Accordingly,  the  striking  of 
the  clock  which  called  ine  to  the  lecture-room,  often  found 
me  walking  up  and  down  my  chamber  with  tears  in  my 
eyes,  engaged  in  earnest  prayer  to  Gad,  that  he  would 
guide  me  at  least  in  such  a  manner,  as  not  to  suffer  me  to 
do  any  thing  detrimental  to  religion  and  morality  ;  and  not 
unfrequently  was  it  difficult  for  me  to  conceal  my  internal 
commotion  from  my  hearers.  Notwithstanding  the  un- 
certainty, however,  in  which  all  my  knowledge,  even  that 
which  I  had  considered  as  resting  upon  a  solid  basis,  was, 
about  this  time  involved,  two  principles  remained  by  me 
unshaken  :  First,  never  to  permit  myself  to  indulge  in  any 
explanations  in  philosophy  which  did  violence  to  my  moral 
feelings;  and  second,  never  to  assert  any  thing  in  theology 
which  was  at  variance  with  the  obvious  declarations  of  the 
Bible. 

That  any  thing  could  be  true  in  philosophy  which  was 
prejudicial  to  morality,  was  something  of  which  I  could  in 
no  wise  be  convinced.  Positions  of  this  kind,  with  how 
•much  so  ever  plausibility  they  were  laid  down,  always  dis- 
gusted me.  By  means  of  the  moral  education  I  had  re- 
ceived, and  the  diligent  attention  I  had  paid  to  my  own 
improvement,  moral  feeling  had  been  rendered  too  active 
in  me,  not  immediately  to  reject  and  that  too  whh  aversion, 
every  position  of  an  immoral  tendency  ;  and  whenever 
such  occurred  to  me,  I  soon  succeeded  in  discovering 
their  falsity  and  tracing  out  the  sophisms  upon  which  they 
rested.  Hence,  though  1  found  myself  unable  to  embrace 
any  party  as  a  whole,  and  felt  very  far  removed  from  any 
system  which  had  been  thoroughly  tried  and  was  satisfac- 
tory to  myself,  yet  I  never  embraced  any  opinions  of  a 
dangerous  character  or  prejudicial  to  morality  ;  and  be- 
sides, I  was  an  Eclectic,  whose  object  was  to  obtain  what 
appeared  to  be  the  best  and  most  tenable  of  every  system, 
and  arrange  It  in  a  convenient  form.  This  being  the  case, 
that  my  philosophical  lectures  were  always  assuming  a 
new  aspect  Is  a  matter  of  course.  I  constantly  extended 
my  investigations  and  arrived  at  new  views  and  re- 
sults. This  could  prove  of  no  disadvantage  to  my  hear- 
ers. I  always  gave  them,  what,  according  to  duty  and 
conscience,  I  considered  the  best  and  truest ;  and  if  any 
6 


50  LETTER   VII. 

of  them,  on  hearing  me  lecture  upon  the  same  subjects 
again,  discovered  changes,  it  led  them  to  reflect  for  them- 
selves, and  filled  ihem  with  a  spirit  of  investigation  ;  and 
to  awaken  a  spirit  of  investigation  in  my  hearers,  and  teach 
them  to  stand  upon  their  own  feet,  was  the  grand  object 
of  all  my  lectures,  parucularly  the  philosophical. 

In  regard  to  theology  :  The   principle,  not  to  approve 
of  any  thing  in  theology  v;^hich  was   at  variance  with  the 
obvious  declarations  of  the  Bible,  confined   me  to  a  mid- 
dle course,  in  which,  with  sufficient  freedom  for  examina- 
tion, I  was  restrained  from   running  oflf  too  far  into  error. 
That  this  proved  prejudicialto  the  students  committed  to  my 
charge,  I  will  not  pretend  to  deny.     The  Bible,  as  I  lately 
informed  you,  my  dear  friend,  had   been   my  companion 
from  my  youth.     [  had  never  ceased   to  look  upon  it  as 
the  word  of  God  to  man,  and   read  it  as  such.     To  me 
therefore  it  was  of  sacred  and  decisive  authority.     Hence, 
a  position  which   contradicted   it,  disgusted   my  religious 
feelings,  as  m.uch  as  an  immoral   assertion  did   my  moral 
sense.      That  I  regularly    and    faithfully    examined   the 
principles  upon  which  the  authority  of  the  Scriptures  rest, 
you  will  take  for  granted.     Before  1  did  so,  however,  it 
was  a  matter  of  conscience  with  me  not  to  involve  myself 
in  any  contention  with  a  book  which  originated  with  God, 
and  constitutes  the  instruction  of  so  large  a  portion  of  our 
race ;  the  divine  power  of  which  I  had   so  often   experi- 
enced in  my  own  heart,  and  for  which  all  my  feelings  had 
ever  declared  in  so  decided  a  manner.     In  addition  to  this, 
I  was  born  in  a  church,  which  is  the  proper  kingdom  of 
the  Scriptures,  acknowledging  as  it  does  no  other  unlimit- 
ed authority  and  deriving  its  system  of  doctrines  entirely 
from  them.     This  system  appeared  to  me  to  be  far  more 
agreeable  to  the   Scriptures,  provided   they  are  received 
without  any  human  refinements  or  perversions,  than  that 
of  any  other  religious  party  of  Christians.     Hence,  not- 
withstanding the  greatness  of  my  internal  fermentation,  and 
the  length  of  my  struggles  with  doubts  of  every  kind,  I 
could,  from  the  very  beginning,  not  only  teach  the  system 
of  doctrines  embraced  by  the  Evangelical  church,  but,  if 
I  acted  conscientiously,  was  obliged  to  do  so.     Of  course, 
I  afterwards  did  this  with  increasing  delight  and  thorough- 


LETTER    VII. 


51 


ness ;  as  1  became  more  and  more  convinced,  that  the  es- 
sential parts  of  ti)is  system  are  contained  in  the  Scriptures 
and  too  deeply  founded  upon  them,  ever  to  be  mistaken, 
or  by  any  o(  the  arts  of  interpretation,  entirely  explained 

away. 

And   now,  my   dear   friend,  as   to   the   result  :  Strictly 
speakins;,  the  six  years  which  I  have  just  described  or  the 
time  from  1778  to  1784,  cannot  be  reckoned  as  devoted 
to  an  immediate  preparation  for  the  ministry.     During  this 
remrirkable  period  of  my  life,  I  was  zealouslyengagedin 
inquiries   after  truth  and  certainty,  and   made  it   my  prin- 
cipal   aim   to   obtain    correct    views    of   those    subjects 
which  by  every  rational  man  ought  to  be  looked  upon   as 
the   most   sacred    and    important.     With   the   business  of 
prearhins;  during  this  period  of  struggle,  I  did  not  trouble 
myself.     That  it  was  a  period  of  immense  usefulness  to 
me,  however,  in  this  respect,  you  will  yourself  infer.  The 
exercises  in  teaching   and   thinking   in  which  I  had  to  en- 
gage, tlie  various  acquisitions  which  1  was  obliged  to  make, 
the  stores  of  useful  materials  which  I  acquired,  the  many 
precious   reflections  to  which  I  was  led,  and,  what  is  more 
than  all  the  rest,  the  joyful  convictions  respecting  the  most 
important  concerns  of  man,  which  I  gradually  obtained, — 
all  these  proved  of  great   value   to  me  when  I  began  to 
preach.     I  then  found  myself  neither  destitute  of  materials 
to  work  upon,  nor  void  of  skill  to  give  what  was  to  be  de- 
livered, the   req-iisite  order  and   connexion.     In   respect 
ako  to  expression  and  representation,  I  had  gained  more 
than  I  had  lost ;  for  without  words  it  is  impossible  to  phil- 
osophize, and  the  reading  of  the  best  and  acutest  writers 
in   which    I    employed   myself  during  this  period,  proved 
of  great  use  to   me  in  increasing  my  knowledge  of  lan- 
guage and  forming  my  taste.     It  is  time,  however,  for  me 
to  hasten  to  my  entrance  upon   the  business  of  preaching. 
Permit  me  to  give  you   an   account  of  myself  in  this  res- 
pect in  my  next  letter,  and  in  the  mean  time,  farewell. 


5S  LETTER    VIII. 


LETTER   VIII. 


Becomes  a  Pastor — Ministerial  habits — Complains  of  his  memory — No  imita- 
tor— Wrote  very  methodically — Ilis  first  sermons  quite  defective — Ought  to 
have  read  and  studied  the  best  masters. 

My  Dear  Friend — 

I  had  not  preached  more  than  sixteen  or  twenty  times 
at  the  farthest,  in  all  my  life,  when  I  was  ushered  into  a  very 
important  station  as  a  minister  of  the  Gospel,  and  one, 
who  was  to  have  young  students  for  his  hearers,  and  serve 
as  a  pattern  to  those  who  were  destined  to  become  minis- 
ters themselves.  Yoii  will  readily  suppose  that  1  deeply 
felt  the  im|)ortance  of  my  calling,  and  entered  upon  it  re- 
solved to  do  the  utmost  in  my  power  to  perform  iis  duties, 
and  to  omit  nothing  so  far  as  knowledge  and  design  were 
concerned,  which  should  be  requisite  for  enabling  me  to 
render  my  sermons  useftd.  As  I  was  obliged  to  begin 
preaching  without  having  gone  through  much  preparatory 
exercise,  in  the  midst  of  labors  of  an  entirely  different  kind, 
the  whole  employment  with  me  had  some  peculiarities, 
wh  ch  I  will  lay  open  to  you  in  regular  order. 

I  was  scarcely  ever  master  of  my  own  time.  Almost 
every  moment  1  had  to  spare,  during  the  week,  was  devo- 
ted to  the  business  of  my  professorship.  The  only  time 
I  had  for  composing  sermons,  was,  what  I  had  formerly 
spent  in  reading  and  extending  my  studies.  T  was  also 
unable  to  calculate  upon  my  health.  It  had  never  been 
firm,  and  with  the  efforts  which  I  was  now  obliged  to 
make,  it  certainly  could  not  gain.  Accordingly,  I  was 
subject  to  sudden  fits  of  indisposition,  particularly  to 
ephemeral  fevers,  which  often  atacked  me  when  1  was 
least  prepared  for  them. 

Hence,  when  I  began  to  preach,  I  firmly  resolved,  nev- 
er to  postpone  the  composing  of  a  sermon  to  the  last  mo- 
ment, but  always  to  commence  the  work  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble.    From  the  very  outset,  therefore,  I  made  it  an  inva- 


LETTER   VIII.  53 

riable  rule,  before  delivering  one  sermon,  to  have  another 
already  prepared  to  follow  it,  in  my  desk. 

This  was  of  more  than  one  advantage  to  me.  I  was 
never  driven  to  the  necessity  of  preaching  unprepared  or 
of  extemporizing.  I  was  ready  for  every  occasion  long 
before  it  arrived.  If  unforeseen  events  occured,  or  my 
studies  were  interrupted,  or  sudden  fits  of  indisposition  at- 
tacked me,  they  could  not  injure  my  labor ;  for  if  these 
things  took  place  during  the  latter  part  of  the  week,  they 
could  not  affect  the  sermon  already  in  my  desk,  and  am- 
ple time  was  always  left  for  me  to  plan  another  to  succeed 
it,  and  write  it  out,  with  all  the  requisite  care.  More  than 
all  the  rest,  however,  this  habit  of  early  preparation  made 
it  unnecessary  for  me  to  do  any  thing  in  haste.  Some- 
times I  did  not  succeed  to  my  mind  as  to  every  point  in 
my  first  attempts  at  composing  a  sermon.  As  however 
more  than  a  week  was  to  elapse  before  it  would  be  dehv- 
ered,  I  had  ample  time  for  working  over  the  whole  of  it 
or  a  part,  as  often  as  I  pleased,  and  endeavoring  to  render 
it,  at  least,  in  some  measure  perfect.^  Hence,  my  ser- 
mons naturally  acquired  a  certain  uniformity  of  character. 
At  any  rate,  they  had  this  perfection  if  no  other,  that  one 
was  not  exalted  too  much  above  another,  as  all  had  in  the 
main  received  an  equal  share  of  attention.  These  advan- 
tages induced  me  to  continue  the  habit  of  early  prepara- 
tion for  the  pulpit,  even  after  I  ceased  to  be  professor, 
when  I  had  far  more  time  to  devote  to  my  sermons.  This 
I  was  constrained  to  do,  so  much  the  more,  from  the  fact, 
that  the  ideal  perfection  at  which  I  aimed  in  composing  a 
sermon,  was  always  becoming  more  elevated,  and  conse- 
quently, required  me  to  make  increasing  exertions  to  effect 
its  attainment.  I  labored  therefore  at  this  time,  notwith- 
standing I  had  preached  so  often  and  so  long,  more  hours 
and  with  greater  diligence  upon  my  sermons  than  I  did  at 
first ;  and  hence,  was  obliged  to  calculate  closer  than  for- 
merly, in  order  to  obtain  sufficient  leisure  for  composing 
them. 

*  ["  I  cannot  recommend  Reinhard's  custom  of  writing  a  second  sermon 
before  the  first  was  delivered,  to  those  who  commit  their  discourses ;  as  the 
two  things  united  must  occasion  perplexity,"  Tzschirner,  Briefe  veranlasst 
■durch  Reinhard's  Gestandnisse,  u.  s.  w.  Sulzbach,  1810,  S.  248  ff.] 

*5 


$4  LETTER    VIII. 

No  sooner  had  I  commenced  the  business  of  preaching, 
than  I  became  very  painfully  conscious  of  a  defect,  which 
had  not  wholly  escaped  me  before,  but  which  I  had  not 
much  regarded  ;  namely,  the  want  of  a  s!:ood,  ready,  and 
retentive  memory  for  words.  In  recollecting  things,  con- 
nected trains  of  thought,  and  whole  systems  of  well  ar- 
ranged ideas,  I  never  found  any  difficulty  ;  and  the  atten- 
tion 1  had  paid  to  philosophy,  had  greatly  exercised  and 
strengthened  my  memory  in  this  respect.  To  call  to 
mind  however  a  discourse  I  was  to  deliver,  in  exactly 
those  words  and  phrases  in  which  it  was  written,  was  not 
so  easy  a  task  ;  nor  could  1,  at  first,  consistently  with  the 
arrangements  1  had  made  for  composing  my  sermons,  en- 
tirely prevent  all  the  injurious  results  of  a  defective  mem- 
ory. Nevertheless,  I  was  sensible  of  the  impossibility  of 
avoiding  the  introduction  of  inappropriate  and  undignified 
expressions,  falling  into  tautological  excrescenses,  speaking 
with  imperspicuity  and  indefiniteness,  and  perhaps,  by  means 
of  a  careless  style,  of  exciting  aversion  and  disgust,  in 
any  other  way,  than  by  adhering  to  the  very  terms  and  ex- 
pressions, which,  in  writing  my  sermons,  I  had  selected  as 
the  best.  Hence,  I  applied  every  spare  moment  I  could 
find  during  the  week,  particularly  dressing  time,  to  gradual- 
ly committing  my  sermon  to  memory,  in  order  that  I  might 
be  able  to  deliver  it  without  embarrassment.  That  under 
such  circumstances,  I  found  this  part  of  my  duty  the  hard- 
est I  had  to  perform,  is  a  confession  you  will  naturally  ex- 
pect. Indeed,  with  the  most  conscientious  diligence  and 
care  in  this  respect,  1  could  not  avoid  letting  many  things 
slip  in  the  delivery,  and  often  entirely  destroying  a  well 
constructed  period,  by  substituting  new  and  ill-adapted  ex- 
pressions instead  of  the  ones  which  had  originally  been 
selected  ;  nor  have  I  been  able  by  constant  exercise,  to 
remedy  this  natural  defect  of  my  memory;  for  it  costs 
me  now  as  much  trouble  as  it  did  at  first,  to  take  up  every 
thing  when  I  preach,  exactly  in  the  order  in  which  it  was 
conceived  and  written.* 

*  ["That  a  sermon  should  be  carefully  worked  out  and  committed  to  mem- 
ory beforehand,  whenever  it  is  possible,  I  have,"  saysTzschirner,  (Rriefe  u.  s. 
w.,  already  referred  to,  S.  248  ff.,)  "  become  thoroughly  convinced.  To  read  a 
iermou  shackles  an  orator,  prevents  his  hearers  from  indulging  the  agreeable 


LETTER    VIII.  55 

From  the  circumstances  which  I  have  now  recounied, 
you  will  be  able  in  a  great  measure  to  collect  the  reasons 
why  my  sermons  have  received  ihe  peculiar  form  and  di- 
vision which  they  possess.  For  me  to  imitate  a  master, 
when  1  was  obliged  to  begin  preaching,  was  impossible. 
From  the  history  of  literature  indeed,  1  had  become  ac- 
quainted wiih  the  most  distinguished  men  in  this  depart- 
ment, but  of  their  mode  of  sermonizing  I  was  totally  igno- 
rant. The  above  named  Passion  Sermons  of  Saurin  were 
the  only  ones  I  had  ever  read,  and  all  the  idea  I  ever  had 
of  imitating  this  excellent  man,  soon  passed  away  in  the 
midst  of  a  pressure  of  business,  or  was  annihilated  by  that 
activity  of  thought  which  will  not  readily  submit  to  re- 
straint. I  gave  myself  up,  therefore,  to  my  own  opinions 
and  feelings. 

When  a  professor,  I  was  in  the  habit  of  composing  my 
discourses  in  a  very  methodical  manner,  and  this  habit  fol- 
lowed me  into  the  pulpit.  My  sermons  contained  defini- 
tions, divisions,  and  arguments,  just  like  my  lectures;  and 

illusion  that  what  he  says  and  feels  is  the  result  of  the  moment,  and  transforms 
him  into  a  mere  teacher.  It  may  be  tolerated  in  an  aged  man,  but  should  be 
wholly  avoided  by  the  young-  To  extemporize  leads  to  tuperficiali'y  and 
chatteruig.  True,  the  ancients  often  extemporized,  but  not  until  after  years  of 
training,  and  then  on  occasions  which  sponianeousls  furnished  the  orator  with 
enough  to  say;  whereas  the  minister  has  to  draw  from  his  o\%ti  meditations. 
It  is  far  better,  indeed,  for  a  man  to  speak  from  a  plan,  than  a  half  written; 
half  commitlerl  sermon;  but  I  advise  you,  my  dear  Iriend,  to  extemporize  as 
little  as  possible."  The  opinion  here  expressed,  is  quite  a  prevalent  one  in 
Germany,  and  has  many  plausible  arguments  in  its  favor;  but  is  it  correct? 
Of  the  different  modes  of  addressing  an  audience,  that  is  the  best  whicii  ena- 
bles the  orator  to  keep  the  field  of  thought  the  most  vividly  before  him.  With 
the  Germans,  we  must  ask,  What  can  be  more  unfavorable  than  reading  a  ser- 
mon, in  this  respect  ?  To  speak  a  sermon  memoriter  is  ascending  a  grade 
higher,  provided  it  be  well  committed,  and  the  man  have  a  soul  that  will  kindle. 
How  easy,  however,  even  in  this  case,  to  los(!  sight  of  the  field  of  thought,  in 
the  mechanical  process  of  rehearsing  words  ?  'J'hat  many  eloquent  discourses 
must  be  composed,  long  and  inten>ely  analyzed,  studied,  and  repealed,  be 
fore  a  man  can  become  an  orator,  is  readily  admitted ;  but  is  memoriter 
preaching  the  most  favorable  to  oratory?  Will  it  enable  a  man  to  keep  the 
field  of  thought  most  vividly  before  him  ?,  And  yet  the  objections  made  by  the 
Germans  to  extemporary  speaking,  are  also  founded  in  truth.  Nothing  can  be 
more  injurious  in  the  end,  to  real  oratory,  or  to  the  cause  of  truth,  than  that 
chaptering  mode  of  declaiming  which  is  so  generally  known  as  extemporary 
preaching.  There  is  another  mode,  which  if  I  mistake  not,  combines  the  ad- 
vantages both  of  memoriter  preaching  and  extemporizing,  enables  a  man  to 
keep  the  field  of  thought  before  him,  thus  lighting  up  the  fire  within,  and  holds 
him  ready  for  new  impulses  ;  the  attainment  of  which,  will  constitute  the  per- 
fect orator.  It  consists  in  committing  thoughts  and  illustrations  to  memory 
■with  little  or  no  reference  to  words,  and  then  giving  the  audience  an  unhesi- 
tating and  simjile  description  of  what  lies  before  the  mind,  as  we  describe  a 
beautiful  landscape  to  a  friend.] 


56  LETTER   VIII, 

were  as  closely  directed  in  every  respect  to  the  devotion  of 
my  hearers  in  the  church,  as  the  latter  were  to  the  atten- 
tion of  my  hearers  in  the  theological  lecture-room.     That 
the  early  education  I  received  had  greatly  inclined  me  to 
this  kind  of  preaching,  you  will  in^er,  my  dear  friend,  from 
what  has  already  been  said.    There  were  some  particular 
reasons,   however,  which  justified  me,  as  [  supposed,  in 
this,  I  may  almost  say,  scholastic  mode  of  preaching.     As 
1  had  to  preach  in  the  University  Church,   the  majority  of 
my  hearers  were  learned  men  and  students.     To  these, 
capable  as  they  were  of  following  out  a  regular  and  close- 
ly connected  discourse,  t  considered  it  my  duty  to  have 
particular  respect.     Strictly  speaking,  they  had  been  in- 
trusted to  me,  and  constituted  my  church.   To  this  it  may 
be  added,  that  my  capricious  memory  did  not  well  retain 
any  thing  but  what  was  closely  connected  together.     The 
more  accurately  and  methodically  my  sermon  was  adjust- 
ed in  all  its  parts,  even  the  smallest  divisions,  the  easier  I 
found  it  to  be  gotten  by  heart. "^     That  in  the  midst  of  the 
loads  of  business  of  every  kind  with  which  1  was  surround- 
ed, I  should  avail  myself  of  this  assistance  as  much  as 
possible,  was  natural.     Finally,  I  learned   from    experi- 
ence that  this  mode  of  preaching  proved  of  great  utility, 
even  to  cogimon  people.     At  first,  only  a  few  came  to 
hear  me.     My  manner  of  preaching  was  too  strange  to 
them  to  present  them  with  many  attractions.     These  (ew 
however,  gradually  became   accustomed   to  my  style   of 
writing,  and  soon  their  numbers  increased  ;  so  that  in  the 
end,  I  found  myself  by  no  means  destitute  of  illiterate 
hearers.     Those  of  this  class  who   attended,  were,  in  a 
short  time,  able  accurately  to  remember  the  whole  train  of 
thought  contained  in  each  sermon,  together  with  its  princi- 
pal contents.  There  were  citizens'  wives,  who  could,  from 
Sabbath  to  Sabbath,  give  a  minute  account  of  each  dis- 
course they  heard,  with  all  its  divisions  and  sub-divisions. 
As,  therefore,  I  considered  it  my  duty  to  preach   from 
memory,  and  felt  anxious  to  have  my  hearers  as  intimately 
acquainted  as  possible,  with  what  I  said,  utility  required 
me,  as  I  believed,  to  continue  this  mode  of  sermonizing. 

*  Quintilian  expressly  recommends  good  anangement  for  the  sake  of  the 
assistance  it  affords  a  man's  memory.    Institut.  Orat.  1.  XL  c.  2,  9;  36,  37. 


LETTER     VIII,  '  67 

It  is  true,  that  in  so  doing,  f  was  obliged  to  renounce  many 
things  connected  wiih  rhetorical  taste;  but  I  did  iliis  the 
more  willingly,  as  I  had  always  looked  upon  the  Christian 
minister,  as  n  teacher,  rather  than  an  orator;  and  from 
experience,  I  gradually  learned,  that  a  discoiuse  so  com- 
posed as  to  constitute  a  well  arranged  whole,  is  not  only 
capable  of  heing  clothed  in  an  interesting  dress,  but  also  of 
being  filled  with  animation.  Farther  on,  hf)wever,  I  shall 
call  your  attention  more  particularly  to  some  parts  of  this 
method,  which  I  either  do  not  wish  tjo  have  imitated  at  all, 
or,  at  least,  not  by  preachers  in  the  country. 

Here  I   must  add  the  confession,   that  the  sermons  I 
preached  during  the    first  years  of  my  ministry,   were,  in 
reality,  very  imperfect.  Tlie  reason  of  this  was,  that  1  had 
gone   through    no  exercises  in  this  department,   and  was 
obliged  to  acquire  all  the  skill  which  I  ouglit  to  have  l)rought 
with  me  to  the  work,  in  the  progress  of  the  work  itself.     J 
cannot  forbear  saying,  therefore  ;  lei  no  one  destined  for 
the  ministry,  fail  to  improve  every  opportunity  which  pre- 
sents, in  attending  to  the  necessary  preparatory  exercises. 
The  greatest  natural  talents  will  not  compensate  for  the  want 
of  such  exercises.     A  man  of  genius  will  get  along  better, 
indeed,   under  such  cijcmustances,   than  one  that   is  not, 
and  complete  his  task  at   an  earlier  period  ;  bur  length  of 
time  will  certainly  not  accomplish  what,  with  a  little  more 
diligence  in    the  proper   season,   miglu  have  been    accom- 
plished at  once.     1    felt  the  imperfection  of  my  sermons 
very  sensibly, — more  sensibly  than  my  goodnatured  hear- 
ers.     Hence,   though    I    had   preached   at  Wiitemberg  for 
eight  years,  yet   I    had  not  been  persuaded  to  print  more 
than  eighteen  sermons,  two  of  them  separately,  as  1  have 
already  informed  you,  my  dear  friend  ;  the  remaining  six- 
teen, in  a  volume  by  themselves.      I  became  more  deeply 
sensible,  however,  of  the  imperfections  of  these   sermons, 
some  lime  afterwards,  than  1  was  while  at  Wiuemberg.    | 
then  undertook  to  repeal  some  of  the  sermons  which  I  had 
formerly  delivered,  but  could  not,  so  dissatisfied  was  I  with 
them,  without   working   them  entirely  over.     Many  years 
have  now  elapsed   since  I  altogether  relinquished   such  an 
attempt ;  for  though  I  now  have  more  than  a  hundred  such 
sermons  by  me,  yet,  taken  as  a  whole,  they  are,  according 


o6  LETTER    VIII. 

to  my  present  feelings,  so  very  imperfect,  that  I  should  be 
obliged  to  work  them  all  over  in  order  to  render  them  tol- 
erable. 

Let  me  conclude  this  letter,  my  dear  friend,  with  a  con- 
fession wiiich  I    feel  bound  to  make  by  way  of  caution  to 
young  ministers.     Perhaps  my  sermons  would  have   been 
far  better  at  an  earlier  period,  if  I  had  read  and  studied  the 
best  masters  in  the  department  to  which  I  was  devoted, 
taking  them  for  my  guides.     This,  however,  I  never   did, 
and,  oppressed    as  I  was  with  business,  was  utterly  unable 
to  do.     It  is  true,  I  had  the  charge  of  a  little  society,  which 
met  once  a  week,  formed  plans,  and  wrote  sermons,  sub- 
mitting  thetn   to   my  criticism.     With  this  society,  there 
was   also  connected   a  reading  -gssociation,   in  which  fifty 
volumes  of  works  selected   by  myself  with  an  especial  re- 
ference to  the  ministry,   were  circulated  every  week.     Of 
course,  these  works  comprised  some  of  the  best  collections 
of  sermons  then   in  existence,   and  which  students  might 
well  have  considered  as  patterns.   However  diligently  they 
were  read  by  others,  I  had  no  lime  to  read  them,   indeed, 
obliged  as  I  was,   constantly  to  compose  sermons  for  my- 
self, I  could  not  think  of  reading  the  sermons  of  others.  If 
I  was  ever  so  happy  as  to  get  any  time  for  reading,  I  wished 
to  devote  it  to  somethins;  in  another  form  which  was  cal- 
culated  to  recruit  me  by  novelty  or  variety.     It  was  not 
until  I  had  been  Court  Preacher  for  several  years,  that  I 
began  to  form  an  acquaintance  with  the  spirit  and  manner 
of  the  best  French,  English,  and  German  preachers.   Some 
of  Zollikofer's  sermons  were  the  first  1  read  for  this  pur- 
pose.    I  immediately  found  the  productions  of  this  great 
man,  fraught  with  a  thousand  excellencies  which  mine  did 
not  possess,  but  which  they  might  have  possessed,  at  least 
in   part,  had  I   made  myself  acquainted   with  them  at  an 
earlier  period      I  was  now  too  old,  however,  to  think  of 
imitation,  and  too  much  habituated  to  my  own  method,  to 
effect  any  great  changes  in  it.     The  only  advantnge  there- 
fore which  I  could  at  this  time,  and  which  I  actually  did, 
draw  from  them,  consisted  in  the  fact,  that  they  induced 
me  to  lay  myself  under  higher  obligations,  and  made  me 
feel  very  vividly  how  far  1  still  was,  from  the  goal  of  per- 
fection. 


LETTER    IX.  5D 

I  hope  that  young  preachers  will  take  warning  from  my 
example.  In  more  than  one  respect,  it  is  necessary  and 
useful  for  a  man  to  obtain  a  practicable  knowledge  ol  what 
is  best  and  most  worthy  of  being  read,  in  the  department 
to  which  he  is  devoted  ;  nor  will  it  contribute  in  any  small 
degree,  towards  perfecting  the  education  of  a  minister,  if 
he  from  time  to  time  make  himself  acquainted  with  the 
greatest  masters  in  his  art  and  study  their  works ;  not 
for  the  p)U'pose  of  slavishly  imitating  them,  but  in  order  to 
quicken  his  perception  of  the  truly  beautiful  and  great, 
correct  his  taste,  and  then  form  a  method  of  his  own  which 
shall  harmonize  the  best  with  his  powers,  talents,  and  the 
circumstances  in  v.'hich  he  is  placed.  I  had  been  taught 
by  Cicero,  to  neglect  none  of  the  productions  of  the  great- 
est orators.  Every  body  acquainted  with  his  works,  knows 
from  his  Brutus,  how  familiar  he  was  with  all  the  Greek 
and  Roman  sciences  connected  with  his  art,  and  with  what 
diligence  he  studied  the  literature  of  his  department.  May 
his  example  so  much  neglected  by  myself  in  this  respectj 
prove  exciting  and  salutary  to  others.     Farewell. 


LETTER  IX. 

Chooses  to  speak  of  his  creed — Began  preaching  in  times  of  great  religious 
controversy — was  censured  by  some,  apologized  for,  by  others,  for  adher- 
ing to  Orthodoxy — Very  much  pained  by  the  latter — How  he  arrived  at  his 
religious  views — Early  saw  the  necessity  of  adhering  entirely  to  reason,  or 
entirely  to  revelation — Those  following  a  middle  course,  involred  in  uncer- 
tadnty — Knew  not  what  they  were  about — Felt  himself  obhged  to  adhere 
entirely  to  revelation — Welcomes  truth  however  from  all  quarters — A  be- 
lief in  revelation  favorable  to  reason  and  effect — The  grand  cause  of  his 
adherence  to  the  Gospel,  his  need  of  a  Saviour — Solemn  conclusion. 

My  Dear  Friend — 

You  will  excuse  me,  you   say,  from  speaking  of  the 
subjects   and   contents  of  my   sermons,   inasmuch   as  i 


60 


LETTER    IX. 


is  sufficiently  evident  to  every  one,  who  examines  them, 
that  the  principles  they  contain  are  those  of  the  Evan- 
gelical church,  as  enribodied  in  iis  articles  of  faith ;  and 
that  none  of  them,  however  numerous  they  are,  can  be 
looked  upon  as  merely  doctrinal  or  ethical,  as  the  theo- 
retical and  practical  parts  of  religion  are  every  where  com- 
bined together,  and  exhibited  in  their  mutual  connexion. 
I  not  only  acknowledge  the  justice  of  these  remarks,  but 
confess  the  gratitude  J  feel,  for  the  readiness  with  which 
you  refrain  from  asking  me  to  defend  my  orthodoxy 
and  adherence  to  the  ancient  dcJctrines  of  our  church. 
Such  in  all  cases  being  the  character  of  my  sermons,  you 
wish  for,  nothing  more,  as  you  say,  respecting  them,  than  an 
account  of  the  form  in  which  they  were  composed.  You 
will  excuse  me,  however,  if  I  make  no  use  of  your  for- 
bearance. Permit  me,  on  the  other  hand,  to  devote  this 
letter  to  saying  something  about  the  I'easons  why  my  ser- 
mons contain  such  principles  and  no  others. 

On  account  of  my  adherence  to  the  doctrines  of  our 
church,  or  rather  lo  the  doctrines  of  the  Bible,  which  have 
always  been  recognized  in  my  sermons,  I  have,  on  the 
one  hand,  been  bitterly  censured,  and  in  reality  calumni- 
ated ;  and,  on  the  other,  tenderly  apologized  for  and  de- 
fended ;  and  I  will  frankly  confess  to  you,  my  dear  friend, 
that  the  latter  has  grieved  me  far  more  than  the  former. 

I  coinmenced  preaching  at  a  time  in  which  our  illumin- 
atins,  ilieologians  had  succeeded  in  rendering  the  doctrines 
of  Christianity  so  clear  and   intelligible,  that   nothing  was 
left  but  pure  Rationalism.     Then,  for  any  who  wished  to 
get  applause  and   obtain  journal  approbation,  it  was  an  al- 
most indispensable  condition,  that  he  sliould  have  declared 
some  book  of  the  Bible   spurious,  or  have   attacked  some 
established   doctrine.       He    who  ventured  to    make    his 
appearance  in  public  without  doing  homage  to  the  spirit  of 
the  age,  might  calculate  upon  being  received  with  ridicule 
and  contempt.     Tb.at  I  did   not  escape  this  fate  ;  that,  on 
the  other  hand,  my  adherence  to  the  ancient  doctrines  was 
pronounced  incomprehensible  by  the  reviewers,  treated 
with  injustice  and  severity,  and  spoken  of  with  bitterness 
and  sarcasm,  is  a  matter  with  which  you  must  have  been 
acquainted.     One  of  these  zealots  thought  it  advisable  to 


LETTER     IX.  61) 

give  a  connected  representation  of  the  most  powerful 
things  which  had  been  said  in  this  respect,  and  pubhsh 
them  in  a  little  book.* 

On  the  other  hand,  as  I  never  wrote  a  word  in  my  own 
defence,  there  were  patrons  who  came  forward  without 
invitation,  for  the  purpose  of  solving  the  riddle.  That  I 
remained  such  an  old  fashioned  behever  from  stupidity  or 
want  of  learning,  was  something  which,  as  they  asserted, 
could  not  be  admitted.  "  It  must  therefore  be  supposed," 
said  they,  "  that  he  speaks  as  he  does,  in  order  to  accom- 
modate himself  to  the  circumstances  and  relations  in 
which  he  is  placed.  It  cannot  be  doubted  that  he  is  at 
heart  convinced  of  the  opposite  truths,  and  a  firm  be- 
liever in  the  correctness  of  the  modern  explanations  given 
of  the  Scriptures,  for  what  man  of  genius  and  learning  is 
not  ?  The  country  in  which  he  instructs  however,  is  prob- 
ably not  prepared  for  this  new  light ;  or  perhaps  it  is  his 
opinion,  that  a  public  religious  teacher  should  deliver  such 
truths  as  he  is  enjoined  to  do  by  the  state,  without  blend- 
ing with  them  any  particular  opinions  of  his  own  ;  and  as, 
in  the  celebrated  work  entitled,  the  Contest  of  the  Facul- 
ties^^ this  was  shown  to  be  very  rational  and  proper,  so 
every  thing  was  cleared  up,  and  but  little  left,  necessary 
for  putting  an  end  to  my  orthodoxy. 

That  this  mode  of  apologizing  for,  and  defending  me, 
filled  my  heart  with  far  more  pain  than  all  the  abuses  I 
received,  is  a  thing  at  which  no  one  will  be  less  astonished, 
my  friend,  than  yourself.  You  know  me,  from  long  ex- 
perience, to  be  frank  and  open  hearted.  You  know,  that 
I  never  speak  otherwise,  even  in  common  life,  than  as  I 
think.  Yon  know,  that  I  cannot  speak  a  word  contrary  to 
my  convictions,  and  that,  should  I  attempt  to  do  so, 
it  would  die  upon  my  tongue.  You  know  that  I  never 
flatter  a  man,  and  that,  in  the  pulpit  especially,  whenever 
it  has  been  necessary,  I  have  spoken  with  a  frankness 
amounting  even  to  boldness.     And,  finally,  you  know,  that 

*  It  is  entitled :  Neueste  protestantische  Bekenntnisse  flber  Sectengeist 
und  Canzelkrieg,  veranlasstdurch  die  Reiniiardische  Reformationspredi^t  von 
1800,  gesammelt  zum  Besten  seiner  AmlsbrQder  von  Wilhelm  Kdster,  Fredi- 
gern  in  der  Rheinpfalz.  Deutschland,  1802. 

t  Der  Sirelt  der  Facultaten. 

6 


62  LETTER    IX. 

whenever  this  frankness  became  useless,  or  incapable  of 
defence,  instead  of  changing  my  views  and  beginning  to 
speak  in  another  tone,  I  invariably  remained  silent.  And 
yet,  in  the  most  important  of  all  concerns,  I  was  pronounc- 
ed by  the  world  a  dishonest  man ;  was  said  to  teach  a  re- 
ligion which  I  did  not  believe  ;  and  accused  of  perform- 
ing the  duties  of  my  office  like  a  miserable  hireling,  not 
for  the  sake  of  the  truth  or  the  salvation  of  the  souls  in- 
trusted to  my  care,  but  for  the  sake  of  ray  own  advan- 
tage !  If  the  relations  which  I  sustained  in  Saxony,  were 
so  oppressive,  could  I  not  have  gone  into  other  countries, 
where  perfect  freedom  was  to  be  enjoyed  ?  Did  I  not  re- 
ceive calls  and  invitations  from  such  countries  ?  And  was 
1  not  in  general,  so  circumstanced,  that  I  could  obtain  a 
measure  of  independence,  whenever  I  wished  ?  Happy 
it  was,  that  none  of  these  deceptive  representations  pro- 
duced any  effect  upon  my  church.  My  moral  habits  and 
entire  mode  of  action  were  of  too  upright  a  character,  to 
permit  them  to  mistrust  me  in  the  least  respect,  or  look 
upon  me  as  an  equivocator.  Besides,  he  who  ever  heard 
me  preach,  knew  from  my  manner,  that  what  I  uttered, 
came  from  the  heart,  and  felt,  that  I  spoke  the  language 
of  deep  rooted  and  firmly  established  conviction. 

Permit  me  then  to  explain  to  you  in  a  few  words,  how 
I  arrived  at  those  views  so  offensive  to  our  reforming  the- 
ologians. Of  the  labor  it  cost  me  to  obtain  harmonious 
and  firm  results  in  philosophy  and  religion,  I  have  already 
given  you  an  account.  In  my  struggles  after  the  truth,  I 
could  not  fail  to  perceive,  that  strict  and  systematic  con- 
nexion, unity  of  principle,  and  consistency  of  thought  in 
religion,  could  be  acquired  only  by  adhering  entirely  to 
reason,  or  entirely  to  the  Scriptures ;  and  hence,  in  reali- 
ty, only  by  the  Rationalist  or  Supernaturalist.  With  the 
former,  reason  alone  decides.  What  she  does  not  com- 
prehend and  approve  of,  he  utterly  rejects  from  his  creed. 
His  knowledge  therefore  is  connected  and  homogeneous. 
With  him,  the  Scriptures  have  no  more  authority  than  any 
other  human  production.  He  listens  to  what  they  say 
only  when  it  agrees  with  his  own  opinions  ;  and  then,  not 
because  he  supposes  it  affords  any  decisive  proof  of  what 
he  believes,  for  in  this  respect  he  trusts  alone  to  reasooj 


LETTER    IX.  63 

but  merely  for  the  purpose  of  illustration,  and  showing,  that 
others  have  thought  and  believed,  as  he  does. 

In  like  manner,  consistent  with  himself  and  in  every  re- 
spect faithful  to  his  own  principles,  is  the  Supernaturalist. 
To  him  in  matters  of  religion  the  Scriptures  are,  what 
reason  is  to  the  Rationalist.  He  makes  use  of  the  latter 
indeed,  for  the  purpose  of  examining  the  claims  of  the 
Scriptures,  and  the  arguments  in  favor  of  their  high  origin  ; 
but  as  soon  as  this  is  done, — as  soon  as  he  is  convinced 
that  the  instructions  they  contain,  originated  with  God,  he 
receives  their  authority  as  decisive  in  every  thing  pertain- 
ing to  religion.  Thenceforward,  reason  has  nothing  to  do 
but  to  explain  the  Scriptures  and  endeavor  to  ascertain 
their  meaning  ;  and  the  doctrines  to  which  this  process 
leads  her,  hovvever  strange  they  may  seem,  or  far  they 
may  lie  beyond  the  reach  of  her  discovery  or  ability  to 
prove,  she  is  by  no  means  at  liberty  to  reject,  unless  they 
contain  some  things  contradictory  in  themselves.  On  the 
other  hand,  she  is  bound  to  recognize  them  as  from  God, 
and  yield  obedience  to  them  as  of  divine  authority.* 

It  is  perfectly  evident,  that  a  man  will  reason  inconsis- 
tently, and  fail  of  lighting  upon  any  satisfactory  and  de- 
termining principle  for  the  regulation  of  his  knowledge,  so 
long  as  he  pursues  a  middle  course  and  makes  reason  and 
Scripture  co-ordinate,  instead  of  making  the  one  subordi- 

^  *  "  Respectins^  the  possibility  and  necessity  of  a  revelation,"  says  Lessiug^ 
*  and  the  credibility  of  the  many  who  lay  claim  to  inspiration,  reason  alone 
must  decide.  When  she  has  settled  these  points  and  discovered  a  revelation, 
she  must  look  upon  its  containing  things  above  her  comprehension  as  an  aro-u- 
ment  m  its  favor  rather  than  an  objection  to  it.  One  mig-ht  as  well  have  none, 
as  to  think  of  excluding  every  thing- supernatural  from  his  religion  ;  for  what  is 
a  revelation  which  reveals  nothing  ?  Is  it  enough  for  a  man  to  reject  the 
pame  and  retain  the  thing  ?  Are  there  no  other  unbelievers  but  those  who  re- 
ject the  name  and  the  thing  together  V  Soon  after,  he  adds :  "  The  very 
idea  of  a  revelation  implies,  that  reason  has  been  taken  captive  and  brought 
in  subjection  to  faith  3  or  rather,  as  this  expression  may  seem  harsh  on  the  one 
hand,  and  indicate  opposition  on  the  other,  that  reason  has  surrendered  to 
faith.  This  surrendering  is  nothing  more  than  acknowledging  her  limits,  as 
soon  as  she  is  convinced  of  the  reality  of  the  revelation.  Accordingly,  this  is 
the  position  in  which  a  man  must  maintain  himself.  To  be  laughed  out  of  it 
by  invidious  ridicule,  betrays  a  soul  contracted  with  vanity  5  to  allow  one's 
self  to  think  of  relaxing  the  claims  of  these  proofs,  evinces  a  doubt  in  the 
reahty  of  a  revelation.  What  one  tries  to  save  in  this  way,  will  be  lost  with 
so  much  the  less  opposition.  It  is  only  a  snare  which  the  opponents  of  the 
Uiristian  religion,  by  magnifying  the  incomprehensible,  lay,  to  catch  those  of 
Its  defenders  who  are  not  altogether  certain  of  the  goodness  of  their  cause 
and  wish  above  all  things  to  guard  the  honor  of  their  acuteness."  Lessing, 
bammtliche  Werke,  Th.  V.  S.  26—30. 


64  LETTER   IX. 

nate  to  the  other.  In  this  case,  there  is  no  way  for  deter- 
mining the  extent  of  their  respective  rights  or  adjusting 
their  proper  claims.  Nothing  farther  is  then  left  but  the 
capricious  will,  under  the  direction  of  which,  the  man 
sometimes  yields  to  the  control  of  reason,  at  others,  to  the 
control  of  tlie  Scriptures,  and  sometimes  receives  doc- 
trines which  are  altogether  unknown  to  reason,  merely  be- 
cause they  are  found  in  the  Bible  ;  and  at  others,  rejects 
positions,  however  Scriptural  they  may  be  and  clearly  ex- 
pressed, merely  because  they  are  displeasing  to  reason. 
Those  who  adopt  this  course,  therefore,  and  act  accord- 
ingly, can  never  arrive  at  any  thing  definite.  One  will 
incline  too  mijch  to  reason,  another  too  much  to  revela- 
tion. One  will  declare  unworthy  of  belief  and  absurd, 
what  another  adheres  to,  with  firmness,  and  deems  per- 
fectly reconcilable  with  reason.  He  who  has  from  his 
youth  retained  a  reverence  for  the  Scriptures,  will  permit 
them  to  exert  a  greater  influence  upon  his  system,  than 
one  who  early  became  accustomed  to  reject  all  authority 
and  follow  merely  his  own  reason.* 

In  this  middle  course, — -a  course  which  never  can  lead 
to  any  thing  more  than  to  rhapsodical  knowledge  composed 
of  heterogeneous  materials,  and  hence,  always  disconnect- 
ed and  indefinite, — I  thought  I  discovered  the  mostof  ihose 
theologians  who  were  laboring  for  the  purification  of  the 
system  of  Christian  truth.  With  due  consideration  I  say 
the  most.  That  there  were  men  among  them  who  knew 
well  what  they  were  about,  and  were  genuine  Rationalists, 


« 


[The  above  remarks  of  Reiuhard,  respecting'  the  necessity  of  every  one's 
adhering  allogether  to  reason,  or  altogether  to  revelation,  who  would  obtain 
consistent  views  in  matters  of  religion,  served  to  renew  the  controversy  upon 
this  subject,  in  Germany.  Many  good  men  thought,  and  doubtless  still  think, 
that  Reinhard  was  too  severe  in  his  mode  of  thinking  in  this  respect.  To  this 
effect  are  the  remarks  of  Tzschirner,  Briefe,  veranlasst,  u.  s.  w.,  V.  S.  75  ff. 
His  correspondent,  while  he  declares  himself  a  believer  in  revelation,  declares 
himself  unable  to  receive  the  whole  of  the  Bible  as  the  woni  of  God,  having- 
strong  objections  to  what  it  says  respecting  the  introduction  of  mortality  into 
the  world,  as  well  as  respecting  angels,  demons,  &c,;  and  Tzschirner  justifies 
him,  declaring  he  believes  it  possible  for  a  man  to  take  this  ground,  and  yet 
obtain  consistent  views  in  religion.  Those  who  wish  to  enter  into  this  subject, 
will  find  a  good  guide  in  the  Germ,  Conv.  Lex.  Art.  RotionaUsv.vs ;  willi 
which  may  be  connected  particularly,  Naturalismus ,  Supranaturalismus, 
Syncretismus  ;  and  several  works  referred  to  at  the  end  of  Tzschirner's  fifth 
Letter  mentioned  above.  Compare  Prof.  Stuart's  Letter  to  the  Rev.  Wm.  E. 
Channing,  p.  13  f.  third  ed.,  And.  1819.] 


LETTER    IX.  65 

but  thought  it  advisable  not  to  let  it  be  known,  and  hence, 
at  heart,  rfjected  every  thing  positive  in  religion,  without 
questioning  it  at  all  in  public,  or  making  it  a  subject  of  dis- 
pute, was  a  fact  too  obvious  to  escape  the  notice  of  atten- 
tive observers.     But.  by  far  the  greater  part  of  these  illu- 
minating theologians  in   reality  knew  not  what  they  were 
about,   and  had  no  idea  of  the  tendency  of  their  efforts. 
Believing  they  were  doing  no  small  service  to  the  cause  of 
truth,  and  elevating  themselves  not  a  little  above  the  com- 
mon mass  of  the  people,  they  rejected  now  this,  now  that, 
dogma  from  the  old  system,   while  at  the  same  time  they 
retained  a  multitude  of  others,  as  true,  which,  for  the  same 
reasons,  ought  likewise  to  have  been  rejected.     By  this 
means,  the  whole  of  doctrinal  theology  was  rendered  so 
fluctuating  and  insecure,  that  nothing  could  any  longer  be 
said  of  it,  as  a  system.     Very  few  knew  where  they  were. 
Having  taken  away  confidence  in  the  old  system,  in  which 
the   Scriptures  decided  every  thing,  without  being  suffi- 
ciently resolute  to  reject  all  Scriptural  authority,  and  follow 
the  dictates  of  reason  alone,  they  fell  into  a  strange  kind  of 
capitulation  with  the  two;  at  one  time,   sought  to  abate 
something  from  the  Scriptures  in  order  to  satisfy  reason, 
at  another,  rendered  it  so  obliging  as  to  admit  the  validity 
of  some  things  which  stood  too  obviously  on  the   face  of 
Scripture  to  be  rejected  ;  and  by  means  of  this  mediation 
and  negociation,  now  looked  upon  reason  as  the  rightest, 
and  then  the  Scriptures,  according  as  the  mediator  and 
negociator  felt  inclined  to  act  the  interpreter  or  the  phi- 
losopher, and  the  other  circumstances  in  which  he  was 
placed,  seemed  to  call  for  caution  or  to  authorize  licen- 
tiousness. 

Was  Lessing  to  blame  for  embracing  every  opportunity 
to  ridicule  this  lamentable  workmanship  of  the  illuminating 
theologians,  and  declare  aloud,  that  it  disgusted  him  and 
bore  no  comparison  with  the  old  consistent  Orthodoxy  ?* 

*  Compare  Lessing^'a  Works,  already  quoted,  Th.  V.  S.  25  f. ;  and  Les- 
sm^'sLeben,  nebst  seinem  noch  Ubrig-en  literarischen  Nachlasse,  Th.  I.  S.31L 
Other  men  of  excellent  genius,  who,  as  they  were  not  theologians,  felt  them- 
selves free  from  restraint,  have  expressed  the  same  opinion.  "  What  should 
we  not  expect,"  says  Sturz,  "  from  the  priest,  who  makes  known  all  the  duties 
of  benevolence  as  the  laws  of  God's  love,  spreads  abroad  the  terror  of  God's 
almighty  power,  and  excites  feelings  in  favor  of  more  elevated  virtue,  and  an- 
ticipations of  a  rewarding  futurity,  if  he  were  now  ciothed  with  that  sacred 
*6 


66 


LETTER     IX. 


It  was  utterly  impossible,  indeed,   for  me,  to  resolve  to 
share  in  it,  as  it  was  necessary  for  me  to  define  my  know- 
ledge and  reduce  it  to  connexion.     For  me,  therefore, 
only  two  courses  were  left.     I  was  obliged  either  to  reject 
the  Gospel  and  all  divine  revelation,  and  become  a  strict 
Rationalist,  or  else  to  make   reason   subordinate   to  the 
Scriptures  in  matters  of  faith,   and  become  a  strict  Super- 
naturalist.     The  former  I  could  not  do.     Revelation   ap- 
peared to  me  to  have  too  much  in  its  favor,  to  permit  me 
to  look  upon  it  as  error  and  deception.     In  proportion  as  I 
became  acquainted  with  the  contentions,  contradictions,  and 
errors  of  human  reason,  I  learned  to  consider  the  Deity's 
revealing  his  will  to  us,  not  only  as  a  desirable  act  of  be- 
nevolence, but  as  regards  our  wants,  a  matter  of  necessity. 
And  finally,  I  had   derived  such  benefit  to  my  own  heart 
from  the  Scriptures,  to  which  T  had  adhered  from  my  ear- 
liest youth,   and  so  often,  as  I  believed,  experienced  their 
divine  power,  that  1  should  have  been  obliged  to  act  against 
duty  and  conscience,  had  I  resolved  to  break  away  from 
them.     For  me,   therefore,  no  choice  was  left.     I  was 
obliged  to  give  myself  up  to  the  influence  of  revelation, 
and,  without  exception,  admit  the  truth  of  every  thing  that 
had  been  proved  out  of  the  Scriptures.     Now  the  system 
of  doctrines  professed  by  the  Evangelical  church,  appear- 
ed to  me  to  accord  far  more  with  the  Scriptures,  than  any 
other.     It  was  impossible  for   me  not  to  see,  that  it  was 
connected  in  itself,  strictly  consistent,  and  easy  to  be  re- 
conciled with  reason,  as  soon  as  she  becomes  conscious  of 
her  boundaries,  and  refrains  from  meddling  with  indemon- 
strable  assertions.     It  was  very  natural,  therefore,  that  I 
should  firmly  adhere  to  the  system  of  our  church  and  de- 
liver its  doctrines  in  the  cathedral  and  the  pulpit,  without 
suffering  myself  to  be  disturbed  in  the  least  degree,  by  what 
was  brought  forward  to  oppose  them.     In  so  doing,  how- 
ever, I  did  not  approve  of  every  definition  and   improve- 
ment which  had  been  introduced  into  this  system  in  con- 
dignity  which  formerly  exalted  religion  more  than  it  did  the  man  ?   The  priest, 
however,  has  been  degraded  by  wit,  laughed  at  for  believing  in  mysteries, 
and  defamed  for  firmly  adhering  to  ancient  creeds.     Accordingly,  he  strives 
against  contempt,  improves,  explains,  finds  fault,  and  forms  agreements,  rises 
up  in  rebellion  against  symbolical  servitude,  and  gives  much  to  save  a  very 
little.     Thus,  the  venerable   ambassador  of  God  has  sunk  down  into  a  man- 
pleasing  chatterer."    Schriften  von  Sturz,  Th.  I.  S.  209,  210. 


LETTER   IX. 


67 


tiexlon  with  the  demonstrable  doctrines  of  the  Scriptures, 
by  the  ancient  theologians  and  polenfiics.  It  was  only  the 
latter,  that  I  held  fast  and  sought  to  exhibit  in  that  connex- 
ion, which  they  have  in  the  Scriptures,  and  which  binds 
them  firmly  together,  and  renders  them  a  consistent  whole. 
With  reason  I  could  reconcile  them  so  much  the  easier  from 
the  fact,  that  no  scholastic  system  had  confused  my  vision, 
or  robbed  me  of  the  freedom  of  looking  about  me  on  every 
side.  From  a  careful  study  of  all  the  philosophical  sys- 
tems in  existence,  I  had  returned  with  a  decided  mistrust 
in  all  the  speculations  of  human  reason.  In  every  system 
with  which  I  had  made  myself  acquainted,  even  the  most 
celebrated,  but  especially  in  those  which  arrogantly  laid 
claim  to  apodictical  certainty,  I  had  discovered  so  many 
weak  parts,  that  I  deemed  it  most  advisable  to  declare 
myself  in  favor  of  none  of  them  ;  and  in  philosophy,  to 
adhere  to  that  party  which  advocates  the  right  of  examin- 
ing every  thing.  No  one  will  wonder,  therefore,  that 
Kant's  system,  wliich  made  its  appearance  about  this  time 
with  such  extensive  pretensions  to  universal  authority,  pro- 
duced no  change  in  my  thoughts.  But  a  few  years  pass- 
ed away,  before  they  were  recognized  for  what  they  really 
were,  and  many  who  had  been  fooled  by  them  at  first,  re- 
turned back  from  their  error. 

From  what  1  have  uttered  with  such  frankness,  you  will 
draw  the  conclusion,  my  dear  friend,  that  the  ground  upon 
which  I  stand  with  such  firmness,  is  divine  revelation  ;  that 
my  principles,  so  far  as  they  are  determined,  are  the  fun- 
damental truths  of  the  Gospel.  To  me,  indeed,  useful 
knowledge  of  every  kind,  is  welcome.  To  every  species 
of  it,  I  rejoice  to  accede  its  relative  importance,  and  that 
degree  of  certainty  which  it  does  or  ought  to  possess.  I 
am  by  no  means  indifferent  to  the  efforts  and  investigations 
of  philosophizing  reason.  On  the  other  hand,  I  have  made 
myself  acquainted  with  them  as  far  as  possible.  The 
teachings  of  the  Gospel,  however,  constitute  my  criterion 
for  judging  of  every  thing,  the  grand  test,  and  serve  as  a 
leading-string  to  guide  me  in  the  labyrinths  of  human  error. 
From  taking  this  position,  1  derive  more  than  one  advan- 
tage. In  particular,  I  can  extend  my  knowledge  around 
me  on  every  every  side ;  for  by  so  doing,  I  always  gain 


68  LETTER    IX. 

N. 

something  for  the  main  object  which  1  have  in  view.  That 
I  did  w^ell  in  taking  this  course,  I  have  been  more  than 
once  convinced  from  my  own  experience.  I  have  met 
Avith  opinions,  historical  assertions,  whole  systems,  which 
had  the  appearance  of  truth,  but  which  I  was  obliged  to 
pronounce  false,  because  they  contradicted  my  views  of 
Evangelical  truth.  Do  not  suppose,  however,  that  I  satis- 
lied  myself  with  rejecting  such  things  directly  off  hand. 
From  the  very  fact  that  they  blinded,  I  always  made  it  my 
duty  to  give  them  an  impartial  examination ;  and  hitherto, 
I  have  always  come  to  the  result,  that  they  were  untenable, 
and  ought  to  be  rejected  for  other  reasons  abstracted  from 
the  consideration,  that  they  were  at  variance  with  the  Gos- 
pel. He  who  has  had  this  experience  often  and  in  mat- 
ters of  importance,  will  look  upon  the  Gospel  more  and 
more  as  divine  truih,  and  believe  it  im.possible  for  him  to 
take  a  safer  course  than  receive  it  as  such,  and  regulate 
his  judgment  accordingly. 

So  then,  as  you  remark,  the  main  point  in  my  convic- 
tions is  a  mere  faith  in  authority.  I  am  not  an  independ- 
ent thinker,  following  my  own  thoughts  and  standing  upon 
my  own  feet,  but,  like  a  minor,  unable,  as  yet,  to  judge 
for  himself,  I  adhere  to  the  authority  and  declarations  of 
the  Scriptures.  I  have  nothing  to  oppose  to  what  you  say, 
but  must  accede  to  its  truth.  I  beg  you  to  examine  a  lit- 
tle more  closely,  however,  the  position  in  which  I  stand, 
compared  with  that  of  the  Rationalist.  He  believes  as 
well  as  myself.  His  faith  is  in  the  declarations  of  reason. 
'To  her  authority  he  yields  a  universal,  unconditional  obe- 
dience. My  faith  is  in  the  Author  of  reason,  because,  in 
the  teachings  of  the  Gospel,  I  recognize  divine  declarations 
^nd  revelations.  Is  this  kind  of  faith  less  compatible  with 
the  dignity  of  human  nature,  than  the  former  ?"^  Besides, 
he,  w'ho,  while  he  believes  in  the  Gospel,  acquires  a  know- 
ledge of  the  positions  which  human  reason  works  out  of 
herself,  and  leaves  nothing  unexamined,  is  called  upon  to 
go  through  more  investigation  and  exhibit  a  higher  mea- 
sure of  independence  in  thinking,  than  he,  who  has  either 

♦  '' Licet  locus  ab  auctoritate,"  says  the  acute  Thomas  Aquinas,  "quae 
fundatur  super  ratioiie  humana;  sit  infirmissimus  :  locus  tamen  ab  auctoritate, 
quae  fundatur  super  reuelatione  diuina,  est  efficacissimus.  Summ.  Theol., 
Part  I.  quaest.  I.  art.  8. 


LETTER    IX.  69 

made  his  Rationalistic  system  for  himself,  and  brought  his 
investigations  to  a  close,  or  else  passes  over  from  one  sys- 
tem to  another,  and  always  declares  in  favor   of  the   last. 
And  finally,  that  that  man  will  succeed  the  best  as  a  }Dreach- 
€r,  who  founds  every  thing  upon  the  authority  of  God,  and 
can  always  appeal  to  revelation  to  prove  that  he  utters  the 
will  and   express  demands  of  Jehovah,   is  a  matter,  my 
friend,  which  you  must  look  upon  as  self-evident.     A  man 
produces  an  entirely  different  effect  when  he  .speaks  in  the 
name  of  God,  from  what  he  does,   when  he  is  obliged  to 
appeal  merely  lo  the  principles  of  reason.  The  great  mass 
of  the  people,  the  female  sex,  and  a  large  proportion  of 
those  who  pass  for  lenrned  men,  can  never  be  made  inde- 
pendent  thinkers.     Without   authority  they  cannot   even 
stand.     And  can  you  name  to  me  any  that  is  better,  more 
exalted,  and  more  generally  recognized,   than  that  of  the 
Scriptures,   as   far  as  they  are  considered   as  the  word  ot 
God  .^     Do  they  not  justify  themselves  to  such  a   degree 
by  the  extraordinary  appeals  which  ihey  make  to  the  hu- 
man heart,  as  to  leave  every  other  authority  incapable  of  a 
comparison  with  them  ^^ 

Here,  however,  I  must  give  you  a  glance  into  my  heart, 
which  will,  perhaps,  fill  you  with  great  surprise  ;  but  which 
will  completely  solve  for  you  the  riddle  of  my  unshaken 
adherence  to  the  Gospel  in  general,  and  to  the  doctrines 
of  our  church  in  particular.  To  do  it  in  a  (ew  words;  in 
the  relation  in  which  I  stand  to  God,  1  need  a  Saviour  and 
Mediator,  and  just  such  an  one  as  Christ  is.  After  having 
paid  long  and  close  attention  to  my  heart  and  its  real  con- 
dition, as  well  as  to  the  language  of  my  moral  feelings,  I 
find  myself  totally  unable  to  comprehend,  how  any  one  can 
be  bold  enough  to  rely  confidently  upon  his  own  virtue  in 
the  presence  of  God,  or  even  to  expect  the  Grace  of  God 
and  the  forgiveness  of  his  sins,  without  having  received 
some  express  assurance  from  his  Maker  to  this  effect. 
The  natural  condition  of  the  human  heart  appears  to  me  to 
be  so  miserable  and  distracted  ;  1  have  found  every  thing 

*  [With  the  above  remarks,  and  ihose  on  page  62  ff.,  compare  Tzschirner's 
Bnefe,  u.  s.  w.  S.  47 — fi5  3  where  he  makes  some  observations  resptoiing  the 
hig-h  vaunts  and  promises  of  Naturphilosophie,  its  small  and  unsatisfying  per- 
formances, and  the  sad  effects  of  introducing  it  into  the  pulpit,— observations 
»'orthj  the  attentive  perusal  of  all  engaged  in  deep  speculations.] 


70 


LETTER    IX. 


denominated  human  virtue  so  very  defective  in  myself  and 
others,  and  so  far  below  every  thing  which  God  may  and 
must  require  of  his  rational  creatures ;  that  I  cannot,  and 
never  could,  see  how  it  is  possible  for  the  sinner  to  be  ren- 
dered worthy  and  certain  of  the  Grace  of  God,  and  be 
brought  into  better  relations  to  him,  without  his  help,  and 
a  divine  contrivance  for  this  particular  purpose.     That  the 
guilt  of  sins  once  committed  can  never  be  diminished, 
much  less  taken  away,  by  any  subsequent  reformation,  is 
as  clear  as  the  sun.     On  the  other  hand,  it  will  only  be 
Tendered  so  much  the  greater  thereby,  inasmuch  as  the 
fact,  that  the  man  acts  differently  now,  shows  that  he  might 
have  done  so  before,  if  he  had  earnestly  desired  to.    And 
as  to  this  reformation,  however  real  and  thorough,  what  is 
it  ?     O !  1  appeal  to  every  one  possessed  of  tender,  sus- 
ceptible moral  feelings,   and  acquainted  with  the  qualities 
of  a  good  action,  to  tell  me,  whether  it  can  meet  with  the 
approbation  of  the  Supreme  and  Omniscient  Judge.    Will 
the  best  of  men  be   able  to  extoll  their  virtue  before  him  ? 
Will  not  all  their   courage  fail  when  examined  in  the  pre- 
sence of  their  Maker  ?     Will  they  not  be  obliged  to  con- 
fess,  that  the  very  best  actions  they  ever  performed,   are 
not  only  entirely  destitute  of  merit,  but  in  addition  thereto, 
so  very  defective  and  so  far  below  every  thing  which  God 
may  and  must  require,  that,  instead  of  expecting  complete 
jusufication,  or,  perhaps,  a  reward,  they  will  have  to  en- 
treat for  connivance  and  forbearance  ?     This  humiliating 
feeling  of  personal  unworthiness  has  not  only  not  been  di- 
minished in  me,  as  I  have  advanced  in  goodness,  but  been 
rendered  stronger  and  more  vivid.     Indeed,  the  defec- 
tiveness of  human  virtue  must  necessarily  become  more 
striking,  in  exact  proportion  as  the  moral  sensibilities  are 
purified  and  quickened  by  the  progress  of  reformation  ;  for 
he,   who  has  made  advances  in  goodness,  will  be  more 
pained  at  litde  faults  and  impurities,  which  the  unreformed 
and  beginners  in  virtue,  do  not  even  perceive,  than  the  lat- 
ter are  at  gross  errors. 

Such  being  the  language  and  character  of  my  moral 
feelings,  it  is  absolutely  necessary  to  my  tranquillity  for  me 
to  have  a  declaration  from  God  himself,  that  he  is  able  and 
willing  to  forgive  sin,  and  also  a  knowledge  of  the  means- 


LETTER   IX.  7f 

by  which  this  can  be  done  in  a  way  in  every  respect  wor- 
thy of  God,  and  adapted  to  the  moral  nature  of  man.    The 
divine  institution,  agreeably  to  which,  through  Christ  and 
his  death,  all  sinners  who  assent  to  the  conditions,  can  be 
pardoned,  seems  to  me  to  unite  in  itself  every  thing  that 
can  be  wished  for,  in  this  respect.     With  it,  I  cannot  my- 
self dispense ;  for,  by  means  of  it,  though  conscious  of  my 
sins   and  imperfections,  I  have  confidence  in  God,  inas- 
much as  it  takes  away  the  necessity  of  my  obtaining  the 
favor  of  God  by  my  own  merits,  a  thing  impossible,  and 
authorizes  me  to  expect  the  love  of  God  in  Christ.     My 
joy  in  God  rests  upon  the  assurance,  that  in  hoping  and 
praying,  I  can  appeal,  not  to  personal  merit,  for  of  this  I 
have  none,  but  to  the  merit  and  mediation  of  a  person 
whom  God  has,  in  the  most  explicit  terms,  announced  and 
distinguished,  as  the  one  through  whom  salvation  can  be 
conferred  upon  our  race.     That  a  faithful  adherence  to 
this  supreme  and  adorable  Saviour,  is  exahing  to  the  mind  ; 
that  a  close  and  intimate  communion  with  him,  exerts  a 
wonderful  influence  in  purifying  the  heart  and  leading  one 
on  diligently  to  make  attainments  in  holiness ;  that  daily 
occupation  with  him,  and  the  inspiring  contemplation  of 
his  exaltation  and  his  example,  prove  a  blessing  to  the 
whole  internal  man ;  and,   finally,  that  he  who  can  say, 
*'  Nevertheless,  I  live,  yet  not  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in  me," 
has  acquired  new  power,  and  another  and  more  exalted 
mode  of  existence  ; — all  this,  every  one  who  has,  from  his. 
whole  heart,  yielded  obedience  to  the  conditions  laid  down 
by  God,  for  acceptance  in  Christ,  knows  by  experience ; 
and  others  would  not  understand  me,  should  I  attempt  to 
tell  them  ever  so  much  about  it. 

But  enough  has  been  said  respecting  the  orthodox  char- 
acter of  my  sermons.  I  rejoice  to  leave  all  to  their  own 
opinions,  and  can  endure  to  have  every  one  follow  his 
own  convictions,  however  unlike  or  opposed  they  may  be, 
to  mine.  But  from  my  heart  do  I  wish  that  others  would 
exhibit  the  same  reasonableness  and  forbearance  towards 
me,  and  not  rise  up  in  hostility  against  me,  because  I  teach 
as  my  conscience  obliges  me  to  do.  Let  it  be  remember^ 
ed,  "  That  every  one  of  us  shall  give  an  account  of  him- 
self to  God."     The  Lord  will  judge  us  all,  "  But  other 


72  LETTER    X. 

foundation  can  no  man  lay  than  that  is  laid,  which  is  Jesus 
Christ.  Now  if  any  man  build  upon  this  foundation,  gold, 
silver,  precious  stones,  wood,  hay,  stubble  ;  every  man's 
work  shall  be  made  manifest,  for  the  day  shall  declare 
it."*     Farewell. 


LETTER    X. 


His  mode  of  proceeding  in  the  invention  and  choice  of  themes — Need  of  phi- 
losopTiy,  &c. — Of  variety — Common-place-book  of  subjects — Mode  of  ex- 
amining historical  texts — Must  throw  ourselves  back  into  the  age — Kinds 
of  knowledge  requisite— Illustrations— Aids — Didactic  texts— Different 
kinds  of  them — Mode  of  treatment — Illustrations — Must  conceive  ourselves 
in  the  circumstances  in  which  these  texts  were  written. 

My  Dear  Friend — 

I  will  not  deny,  that  at  the  close  of  my  last  letter,  I 
fell  somewhat  into  a  ministerial  strain.  Pardon  this  small 
error.  It  very  naturally  resulted  from  the  subject  upon 
which  I  was  writing.  I  shall  guard  myself  hereafter 
against  every  thing  of  the  kind,  and  confine  my  whole 
attention  to  the  form  and  construction  of  my  sermons. 
Here  you  expect  me  to  be  particular;  and  agreeably 
to  the  request  of  your  former  letter,  I  will,  in  the  first 
place,  give  you  an  account  of  my  usual  mode  of  proceed- 
ing in  the  invention  and  choice  of  subjects. 

Of  course,  you  do  not  here"  expect  from  me  a  treatise 

1  (     ,      *  [It  is  delightful  to  find  Christians  every  where  breathing  forth  the  same 

t-'iU.C-  .  /  spirit.  However  remotely  born  and  differently  educated  from  each  other, 
.  '  they  evidently  become  one  in  Christ  Jesus,  while  others  are  driven  about  by 
'  every  wind  of  doctrine,  and  seem  to  have  nothing  or  little,  firm  and  stable. 
This  remark  is  suggested  by  the  close  correspondence  of  Reinhard's  views 
with  those  of  Prof  Stuart  and  others,  in  cur  own  country.  See  Stuart's  Let- 
ters to  the  Rev.  Wm.  E.  Channing,  in  various  places,  particularly,  pp.  112  L 
149  f.  155  f.] 


LETTER    X.  73 

upon  invention,  as  it  was  called  by  the  ancient  rhetoricians, 
or  the  working  out  of  a  text  and  the  several  themes  de- 
duced from  it,  as  it  is  denominated  by  homiletical  writers. 
I  shall  not  write  a  book  either  upon  homiletics  or  rhetoric. 
All  that  you  wish  to  know,  is,  how  I  have  discovered  so 
many  themes  which  others  never  thought  of,  and  been  en- 
abled to  deduce  more  useful  subjects  from  apparently 
barren  texts,  than  one  could  have  imagined  them  to  con- 
tain. I  can  in  a  few  words  describe  to  you  the  method  I 
usually  pursued,  in  searching  after  and  making  choice  of 
my  main  positions. 

In  the  first  place  I  must  observe,  that  without  a  knowl- 
edge of  philosophy  in  general,  and  an  intimate  acquaint- 
ance  with   many  parts  of  it  in   particular,  as  psychology 
and  ethics  for  instance,  a  man  never  can  succeed  very 
well  in  the  invention  of  subjects.     To  deduce  any  thing 
useful  and   attractive  from  a  text,  and  develop  it  in  an  ap- 
propriate manner,  a  man  must  have  thought  much  upon 
the  character  of  human  nature,  its  excellencies,   wants, 
inclinations  and  necessities,  as  well  as  its  duties  and  rights  ; 
— must   have    contemplated  it   in    all  situations   and    at 
every  stage  of  improvement ; — must,  with    untiring  dili- 
gence,  have  availed   himself  of  history  and  experience, 
and,  by  these  means,  have  collected  together  a  great  treas- 
ure of  valuable  materials.     He,  who  is  deficient  in  these 
respects, — who  does  not  always  look  upon  nature  with 
phifosophical  eyes  and  make  it  his  constant  study,  should 
not  wonder  if  he  generally  fails  of  obtaining  good  subjects 
for  his  sermons,  and,  in  a  text  which  has  been  selected  for 
a  discourse,  finds  it  impossi^ble  to  perceive,  what,  expe- 
rienced eyes  discover  at  a  single  glance. 

I  have  to  add,  that  the  necessity  I  was  long  under,  of 
preaching  upon  the  same  portions  of  the  Gospels,  some- 
times more  than  once  a  year,  contributed  not  a  little  to 
awaken  and  quicken  in  me  the  spirit  of  invention.'^     As 
my  sermons  were  all  printed,  and  my  people  could  easily 

*  [The  custom  of  the  French  preachers  alluded  to  by  Dr.  Blair  (Lecture 
XXIX,)  of  taking  their  texts  from  the  usual  lesson  of  the  day,  prevails  also 
among  the  Lutherans  of  Germany.  American  ministers  being-  under  no  such 
constraint,  much  of  this  letter  might  perhaps  have  been  omitted.  As  however 
it  throws  some  light  upon  the  proper  mode  of  handling  texts,  it  is  retained  ia 

7 


74  LETTER     X. 

calculate  for  me,  I  was  obliged  to  think  of  something  neW;, 
as  often  as  1  returned  to  the  same  text,  and   must  admit,  | 

that  this  led  me   to  the  discovery  of  many  things  which 
otherwise  would  probably  have  escaped  me. 

But,  in  truth,  you  will  say,  every  minister  who  has  to 
preach  constantly  from  the  same  texts,  finds  himself  under 
the  same  necessity,  and  yet  every  one   does  not  succeed 
in  discovering  something  new.     Here,  in  the  first  place, 
let  me  tell  you  of  a  means  of  invention  which  I  have  often 
found  of  very  excellent  service.     I    am   in  the  habit  of 
writing  down  those  thoughts  which  occur  to  me  in  reading, 
regular  reflection,  or  incidentally,  and  are  worthy  of  being 
treated  of  in  detail  in  a  sermon,  just  as  they  present  them- 
selves to  my  mind  at  the  moment,  without  having  any  par- 
ticular object  in  view.     If  then,  at  any  lime,  I  meet  with 
difficulty    in    finding  something    appropriate    in    a    text 
upon   which  I   am  called   to  preach,  I  recur  to  this  cata- 
logue  of  interestins:  thou2:hts,  in  order   to  see   whether 
some  of  them  cannot  be  made  to  bear  upon  the  text  in 
question.     This  often  proves  to  be  the  case  ;  and  in  this 
way,  I  have  been  led   to   many   happy    combinations,  of 
which  I  should  otherwise  never  have  thought. 

I  should  observe,  however,  that  I  have  never  resorted  to 
this  method,  except  when  I  have  found  it  difficult  to  obtain 
any  thing  useful   by   reflecting  upon   the  text   itself.     In 
general,  a  text  needs  only  to  be  rightly  understood  and 
properly  investigated,  in  order  to  furnish   more  than  one 
useful  subject.     Permit  me  to  show  you  the  method  of 
examining  both  historical  and  didactical  texts  and  work- 
ing them  out,  which  1  have  found  the  most  advantageous. 
In  handling  a  historical  text,  the   object  of  all  a  man's 
efforts  as  I  conceive,  should  be  to  transfer  himself  to  the 
historical  theatre  of  action^^and,  as  vividly  as  possible,  im- 
agine every  thing  to  be  present  with  all  its  circumstances, 
and  passing  as  it  were  before  his  eyes.     To  do  this,  a  man 
must  consider  every  narration  in  its  connexion  with  what 
precedes  and  succeeds  ;  must   as  accurately  as  possible, 
conceive   of  the   time  and    place  in  which   every  thing 
happened  ;  must  examine  into  the  causes  and  occasions 
of  every  event ;  must  call  to  mind  all  the  contemporary 
circumstances  and  effects  which  either  stand  in  connexion 


LETTER     X.  *  75 

i 

with  what  a  man  has  before  him,  or  throw  light  upon  it; 
and  finally,  must  bring  with  him  the  laws  of  a  correct  his- 
torical interpretation,  and  take  every  thing  in  the  spirit  and 
sense  of  the  times  to  which  it  belongs. 

Now  if  a  man,  guided  by  these  general  preparatory 
measures,  directs  his  attention  to  the  acting  persons,  and 
looks  at  the  opinions,  dispositions,  wishes,  and  necessities 
they  express  ;  if  a  man  observes  the  morals  and  charac- 
ter thev  exhibit ;  if  a  man  searches  after  those  impres- 
sions and  results  which  every  word,  every  assertion,  every 
step  of  the  acting  persons,  produced  ;  and  finally,  if  a  man 
looks  at  the  effects  which  such  results  may  have  produced 
in  general  and  as  a  whole  ; — if  a  man  does  all  this,  it  is 
scarcely  possible  for  him  not  to  arrive  at  something  which 
deserves  to   be   farther   reflected   upon,  and  treated  of  in 

detail. 

While  a  man  does  all  this,  however,  it  is  equally  neces- 
sary for  him  not  only  to  form  an  accurate  acquaintance 
with  all  the  circumstances  and  wants  of  his  own  age  and 
community,  but  to  keep  himself,  we  may  say,  always  full 
of  them.  As  reflection  is  ever  discovering  new  subjects 
"well  worthy  of  close  investigation,  a  man  must  have  some 
decided  reason  for  prefering  one  to  another.  This  reason 
cannot  be  drawn  by  a  conscientious  preacher  from  the 
greater  ease  with  which  one  subject  can  be  treated  of,  than 
another ;  nor  from  the  desire  or  inclination  which  he  feels 
for  examining  a  particular  theme.  He  must  carefully  se- 
lect and  treat  of  that  subject,  which,  in  view  of  all  the 
circumstances  and  well  known  necessities  of  his  hearers, 
he  considers  as  the  most  appropriate,  and  best  calculated  to 
produce  useful  effects  upon  their  hearts.  It  is  only  by  so 
doing,  that  every  sermon  can  be  rendered,  as  it  were,  a 
word  spoken  in  season,  a  discourse  expressly  adapted  to 
the  occasion,  and  the  preacher  be  secured  against  the 
error  of  fluttering  around  common-place  topics,  and  such, 
as  can  do  his  hearers  no  good. 

Permit  me,  my  dear  friend,  to  illustrate  what  I  have 
said,  by  some  examples.  The  Gospel  for  the  seventh 
Sunday  after  Trinity,  Mark  8.  I — 9,  cannot  be  consider- 
ed as  one  of  the  most  useful  portions  of  Scripture.  From 
it,  however,  if  treated  in  the   manner  I  have  described, 


76  LETTER    X. 

many  very  interesting  subjects  may  be  deduced.  I  will 
mention  only  those  which  I  have  myself  drawn  from  it 
and  worked  out.  In  the  first  place,  it  immediately  pre- 
sents us  with  some  general  subjects  of  a  very  useful  char- 
acter ; .  as  for  example  :  God  can  and  will  richly  bless  what 
is  small  and  insignificant  ;  see  the  Sermons  of  1796.  The 
virtue  of  contentment,  (the  multitude  had  nothing  to  eat  but 
barley  bread  and  fishes,)  is  of  far  more  importance  than  is 
ordinarily  supposed  ;  seethe  Sermons  of  1801.  There 
is  always  something  very  wonderful  in  the  manner  in  which 
God  sustains  us;  see  the  Sermons  upon  Providence, 
Pred.  I.  How  Christian  benevolence  should,  he  practised 
in  times  of  public  want ;  see  the  Sermons  of  1805.  This 
subject  was  suggested  by  the  scarcity  then  prevalent. 

Now  if  a  man  conceives  of  the  vt'hole  transaction  as 
passing  before  him  in  the  manner  I  have  just  described,  he 
will  be  able  to  deduce  from  it  as  naturally  as  before,  sub- 
jects of  equal  importance.  The  whole  affair  took  place 
in  an  unmhabited  region.  This  leads  us  to  the  reasons, 
Why  Jesus  chose  to  collect  his  hearers  around  him  in  soli- 
tary regions  ;  see  the  Sermons  for  quickening  the  moral 
sensibilities,'^  Pred.  XIII.  It  was  a  matter  of  no  small  dif- 
ficulty to  preserve  order  among  several  thousand  men  some 
days,  in  a  retired  place,  without  any  form  of  police  or  civil 
power.  As  the  Lord  evidently  maintained  this  order  by 
the  authority  he  then  enjoyed.  It  shews  us  in  general  the 
silent  influence  always  exerted  by  the  p)resence  of  virtue 
upon  mankind ;  see  the  Sermons  of  1795.  Farther,  cir- 
cumstanced as  Christ  was,  in  regard  to  the  multitude,  he 
could  expect  no  assistance  from  any  one  but  himself.  His 
disciples  had  no  advice  to  give  him.  This  gives  rise  to 
the  very  important  consideration,  That  Christians  should  in 
all  circumstances  depend  upon  themselves  rather  than  others; 
see  the  Sermons  of  1797.  The  dispositions,  feelings  and 
designs  which  had  induced  this  multitude  to  seek  after 
Jesus,  were  doubtless  very  impure.  Nevertheless,  Jesus 
treated  them  with  the  greatest  kindness,  and  his  example 
in  this  respect  should  teach  Christians  the  tenderness  with 
which  they  ought  to  regard  even   imperfect  attempts  in 

*  Zur  Scharfuno-  des  sittlichea  Gefiihls. 


LETTER    X.  77 

goodness  ;  see  the  Sermons  of  1800.  That  many  disa- 
greeable consequences  would  have  resulted  from  Christ's 
neglectins;  to  remedy  the  wants  into  which  the  people  had 
brought  themselves,  by  imprudently  tarrying  in  a  place  in 
which  no  sustenance  was  to  be  had,  is  perfectly  evident. 
At  the  foundation  we  must  be  constantly  sustained  by  the 
providence  of  God,  and  this  forces  upon  us  the  reflection, 
Hoiv  miserahle  should  we  be,  if  God  did  not  continually 
deliver  us  from  the  effects  of  our  own  improvidence  ;  see 
the  Sermons  of  1799.  The  Lord,  on  this  .occasion,  sat- 
isfied both  corporeal  and  intellectual  wants.  This  leads  us 
to  The  connexion  ivhich  God  has  instituted  between  the  ne- 
cessity of  sustaining  the  body  by  nourishment,  and  the  for- 
mation and  improvement  of  the  mind  ;  see  the  Sermons  of 
1802.  It  is  evident  that  the  apostles,  notwithstanding 
their  embarrassment,  did  not  request  Christ  to  exert  his 
miraculous  power.  Hence,  it  is  highly  deserving  our  at- 
tention, that  the  apostles  7iever  required  miracles  of  their 
Lord  ;  see  the  Sermons  of  1803.  The  people  by  their 
anxiety  to  enjoy  the  intercourse  and  instruction  of  Jesus, 
were  brought  into  the  danger  of  suffering  the  greatest 
want,  from  which,  however, they'were happily  saved;  and 
so  also,  there  are  times  which  we  may  devote  to  appropri- 
ate and  pious  exercises  without  suffering  any  temporal  dis^ 
advantage:  seethe  Sermons  of  1808.  The  Lord  kept 
the  people  by  him  for  three  days,  and  finally  ended  his 
instructions  not  only  at  the  right  time,  but  in  the  best  man- 
ner. From  him,  therefore,  we  should  learn,  that  much  de- 
pends upon  our  knowing  how  to  end  every  good  action  in 
a  right  manner ;  see  the  Sermons  published  at  Wittem- 
berg,  Th.  U.  Pred.  X. 

When  the  Gospel  for  the  twelfth  Sunday  after  Trinity, 
comes  up,  Mark  7  :31 — 37,  the  minister  usually  expends 
all  his  zeal  upon  the  last  words  :  "  He  hath  done  all  things 
well,"  transforming  them  into  a  common-place  topic,  though 
they  are  far  from  constituting  one,  and  making  them  intro- 
duce various  remarks  respecting  the  beneficent  goodness  of 
God  and  Jesus  Christ.  He,  however,  who,  by  the  means 
above  recommended,  throws  himself  into  the  circumstances 
jelated  by  the  Evangelist,  will  find  many  other  things  in 
ihem  to  consider.     The  history  itself  will  immediately 

*7 


78  LETTER  X.  , 

lead  liim  to  reflect  upon  the  fate  of  those  unfortunate  per^ 
sons,  to  whom  nature  has  given  defective  bodies.     See  the 
Sermons  of   ISO  I.     The    unfortunate    person   who   was 
brought  to  Christ  could  neither  hear  nor  speak.     This 
leads  us  to  the  general  subjecis  :  How    Christians  should 
regard  the  faculty  of  speech  ;  see  the  Sermons  of  1805  5 
and  a  true  Christian  disposition  must  he  exhibited  in  con- 
versation ;  see  the  Sermons  of  1797.     It  was  misappre- 
hension which  led  the  people  to  blaze  abroad  the  miracles 
of  Jesus,  in  direct  opposition  to  his  command.     This  fur- 
nishes  an  occasion  for  describing  Christian  conduct  in  re- 
gard to  the  misapprehensions  of  common  life.    This  theme 
I  handled  in  a  sermon  delivered  in  1792,  but  not  yet  print- 
ed.    In  1794,  I  spoke  from  this  same  passage  respecting 
the  different  impressions  which  our  good  actions  usually 
make  upon  others,   a  subject  suggested  by  the  effects  of 
Christ's  miracle  upon  the   multitude.      This  sermon  is  not 
printed.    The  Lord  did  not  wish  to  have  the  miracle  which 
he   performed,  spread  abroad.      Christians  should  also  do 
good  with  a  zeal  ivhich  operates  in  silence  ;  see  the  Ser- 
mons of  1796,     It  is  very  apparent,  that  Jesus  conducted 
very  differently  in  concealing  this  miracle,  from  what  he 
did, when  he  performed  his  wonders  by  a  word  of  his  power. 
His  conduct,   therefore,  in  healing  this  deaf-mute,   merits 
special   attention;  see    the  Sermons  of  1804.     In  partic- 
ular, the  Lord  employed  more  ceremonies  in  this  case, 
than  he  had  done  in  others.     This  leads  us  to  the  duty  of 
imparting  a  certain  degree  of  solemnity  to  many  of  our  ac- 
tions ;  see  the  Sermons  published  at  Wittemberg,  Th.  II. 
Pred.  XIII.     If  now  we  reflect  upon  what  is  said   at  the 
beginning  of  the  passage,  that  Jesus  had  returned  from 
another  region,  into  which  he  had  been  driven  by  the 
hatred  of  the  Jewish  officers  at  Jerusalem,  and  hence,  was 
obliged  to  avoid  exciting  any  thing  like  curiosity,  we  shall 
not  only  immediately  discover  the  reason  why,  in  this  case, 
he  so  earnestly  interdicted  the  publication  of  his  miracle, 
but  be   astonished   at  his  zeal  to  do  good  to  his  people, 
which,  notwithstanding  the  ingratitude  of  his  fellow-citizens, 
broke  forth  again,  as  soon  as  he  returned.     This  gives  oc- 
casion for  exhibiting  the  perseverance  with  which  Jesus  did 
good ;  see  the  Sermons  of  1808. 


LETTER  X. 


79 


Among  all  the  historical  portions  of  the  Gospels,  how- 
ever, upon  which  one  is  ordinarily  obliged  to  preach,  there 
is  none  shorter,  more  barren,  and  less  adapted  to  the  day 
on  which  it  must  be  explained,  than  the  text  for  new  year's 
day,  Luke  2:21.  One  would  suppose,  that  without  in- 
dulging in  considerations  in  nowise  connected  with  the 
text,  he  would  be  greatly  troubled  to  find  any  thing  in  it 
edifying  and  appropriate  to  speak  from,  only  a  few  times ; 
especially  so,  as  what  is  said,  is  to  be  adapted  to  the  begin- 
ning of  tiie  year.  Permit  me,  therefore,  my  dear  friend, 
to  show  you  the  usefulness  of  my  mode  of  invention  as 
above  described,  by  applying  it  to  this  text,  and  thence 
deducing  a  series  of  themes  which  I  have  worked  out.  I 
will  bring  them  forward  in  the  order  in  which  the  sermons 
written  from  them,  were  delivered. 

As  circumcision  completed  Christ's  entrance  into  life,  and 
marked   his    entrance  upon  his  civil  and  ecclesiastical  re- 
lations, so  at  Wittemberg,  in  1785,  I  spoke  from  the  posi- 
tion :    Reflections  upon  our  entrance  into  life,  constitute  a 
useful  preparation  for  our  entrance  upon  a  new  year  ;  see 
the  Sermons  printed  at  Wittemberg,  Th.  I.  Pred.  I.    Jesus, 
having,  by  means  of  circumcision,  been  brought  into  con- 
nexion with  the   ecclesiastical  community  of  his  nation, 
submitted  to  very  weighty  duties  and  obligations.     Ac- 
cordingly, in  1793,  I  showed,  Hoiv,  as  we  enter  upon  a 
new  year,  ive  should  recollect,  that  by  multiplying  our  con- 
nexions, we  multiply  our  sorrows.     This  sermon  is  not 
printed.     As  the  reception  of  Jesus  into  the  community  of 
the  Jewish  Church,  was  attended  with  great  advantages,  so 
the  following  year,  I  explained  the  position.    On  entering 
upon  a  new  year,  we  should  think  of  the  good,  God  accom- 
plishes for  us,  by  means  of  human  society.     This  sermon 
is  not  printed.     In  the  very  morning  of  life,  Jesus  found 
that  he  had  been  consecrated  by  circumcision  to  the  cove- 
nant of  God.     This  gave  occasion,  in  the  year  1795,  for 
showing,  How  the  morning  of  a  new  year  should  be  conse- 
crated by  a  grateful  recollection  of  the  benefits  conferred 
upon  us  by  God,  in  the  morning  of  life.     Only  eight  days 
after  his  birth,  Jesus  felt  the  important  influence  of  time, 
became  a  member  of  the  Jewish  nation,  and  thus  obtained 
a  particular  direction  for  his  education  and  his  destiny. 


80  LETTER     X, 

t 

This  led  me,  in  the  year  1796,  to  the  rich  position,  that 
we  are  the  children  of  time,  under  the  guidance  of  God, 
Jesus,  on  being  circumcised,  received  his  name.     This 
thought  very  naturally  gave  rise  to  the   position,   that  we 
shall  spend  this  year  the  best,  if  we  esteem  our  v.ame  of  as 
much  importance,  as  true  Christians  should.     This  theme 
was  treated  of,  in  the  year  1797.     Circumcision  marked 
the  reception  of  a  person  into  the  bosom  of  the  Israelitish 
church.    This,  in  1793,  furnished  an  occasion /o?-  remind- 
ing Christians  of  their  reception  into  the  bosom  of  Chris fs 
Church.     From  the  unwavering  faith,  with  which,  in  joy- 
ful hope,  the  mother  of  Jesus,   notwithstanding  her  severe 
poverty  and  sufferings,  rested  upon  what  had  been  told  her 
at  the  very  outset,  by  the  angel,  respecting  her  son,  occa- 
sion was  taken,  in   1799,  to  describe  the  victory  of  hope 
over  suffering,  and  to  apply  the  ichole  to  entering  upon  a 
new  year.     The  year  1800,  closed  the  century.     Now,  as 
the  birth  and  circumcision  of  Jesus  closed  the  preceding 
age  of  the  world,   and   commenced  a  new  one,   entirely 
different  from  the  former,  so,  from  the  peculiarities  which 
Jesus  imparted  to  his  century,  occasion  was  taken  to  show, 
How,  by  a  serious  retrospection  of  the  pecidiarities  of  the 
departed  century,  we  should  prepare  for  the  last  year  of  it. 
The  following  year  commenced  the  new  century.     The 
painful,  and,   in   respect  to  the  life  and  preservation  of  a 
new-born  infant,  critical  change,  through  which  Jesus  was 
called  to  pass,  when  only  eight  days  old,  and  by  which  he 
was  immediately  bound  to  the  performance  of  very  weighty 
duties,  furnished  an  opportunity /or  exhortations  to  Chris- 
tian earnestness  in  entering  upon  a  new  century.     At  the 
beginning  of  the  year  1802,  the  circumstance,  that  much 
of  great  importance  happened  to  Jesus   during  the  first 
eight  days  of  his  life,  and  time,  as  it  were,  hurried  away 
with  him,  was  taken  up ;  and  hence,  the  fleetness  of  time 
was  made  the  subject  of  consideration.     It  was,  indeed,  a 
painful,  but  a  benevolent  duty,  which   subjected  a  child, 
born  of  Jewish  parents,  to  circumcision,  when  eight  days 
old.     From  this  was  drawn  the  position,  Hoiv  much  rea- 
son have  ive,  on  entering  a  new  year,  to  bless  the  constraints 
of  duty.     The  low  circumstances  in  which  Jesus  found 
liimself  at  the  time  of  his  circumcision,  and  the  laborious 


f 


LETTER  X.  -  81 

duties  heaped  upon  him,  by  means  of  this  ordinance,  led, 
in  1805,  to  a  consideration  of  the  serious  aspect  which  this 
life  presents  to  every  unconstrained  observer.  By  means 
of  circumcision,  Jesus  was  introduced  into  relations  entire- 
ly new,  and,  in  his  circumstances,  unavoidable.  The  in- 
habitants of  Saxony  also  found  themselves,  at  the  com- 
mencement of  1807,  introduced  into  new  relations  by 
means  of  an  important  and  encouraging  peace,  which  had 
been  concluded  on  the  last  week  of  the  preceding  year. 
Serious  reflections  upon  the  new  and  unavoidable  relations 
into  ivhich  the  new  year  had  introduced  W5,  therefore,  seem' 
ed  to  be  the  most  suitable  to  the  circumstances  of  the  occa- 
sion,  though  all  reference  to  particular  political  relations, 
was  avoided,  as  improper.  And,  finally,  from  the  fact, 
that  he  who  was  circumcised,  had  a  course  of  life  before 
him  full  of  painful  duties,  and  needed  much  resoluteness  to 
perform  them,  occasion  was  taken,  in  the  year  1808,  to 
speak  of  the  presence  of  mind  with  which  ive  should  meet 
the  future. 

You  will  observe,  my  dear  friend,  that,  to  discover  these 
subjects,  nothing  farther  was  necessary,  than  to  transfer 
myself,  as  much  as  possible,  to  the  circumstances  describ- 
ed in  the  text,  and  thus  contemplate  them  in  their  whole 
connexion,  and  all  their  bearings  upon  the  person  and  fate 
of  Jesus  ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  with  a  steady  reference 
to  the  new  year,  and  the  existing  wants  of  my  hearers. 
Now,  he  who  proceeds  in  this  way,  whenever  a  historical 
text  comes  up ; — who,  if  I  may  so  speak,  knows  well  how 
to  find  his  position  in  two  different  worlds,  that  of  his  text 
and  his  own,  will  always  succeed  in  discovering  interest- 
ing themes.  To  such  a  man  something  will  always  pre- 
sent itself,  which  harmonizes  equally  well  with  his  text  and 
the  necessities  of  his  hearers. 

With  this,  a  man,  who  would  throw  himself,  as  he  ought 
to  do,  into  all  the  circumstances  of  every  event,  and  reflect 
upon  them  with  success,  must  also  connect  a  diligent  study 
of  Biblical  history  in  general,  and  of  Evangelical  history 
in  particular.  A  frequent  and  connected  reading  of  the 
Evangelists,  a  careful  comparison  of  their  accounts,  an 
accurate  knowledge  of  the  geography  and  natural  history 
oi  Palestine,  and  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  cir- 


82  LETTER  X. 

cumstances  and  affairs  of  the  age  to  which  the  whole 
Evangelical  history  helongs,  can  hardly  fail  to  lead  a  man 
to  rich  views  and  suhjects  ;  especially,  if,  at  the  same  time, 
he  calls  to  his  aid  such  works  as  treat  of  Evangelical  his- 
tory in  general,  or  of  particular  parts  of  it,  with  acuteness 
and  happy  effect.  Among  the  ancient  writers,  there  is 
none,  in  my  opinion,  more  deserving  of  recommendation 
in  this  respect,  than  Chrysostom.  His  homilies  upon  the 
Gospels  contain  many  excellent  views  and  important  hints, 
which  are  expressly  adapted  to  lead  a  man  on  to  farther 
reflection.  Among  modern  writers,  no  one  has  made  bet- 
ter preparation  for  the  minister  who  wishes  for  interesting 
remarks  upon  Evangelical  history,  than  Hess,^  upon  it,  in 
his  well  known  work.  In  exhibiting  the  connexion,  the 
full  purpose,  the  rich  instruction,  and  the  impressiveness 
and  dignity  of  this  history,  he  evinces  an  altogether  pecu- 
liar tact,  which  guides  him  with  uncommon  success,  and 
often  enables  him  to  make  the  most  important  discoveries 
in  the  smallest  circumstances.  The  Commentary  of  Pau- 
lus  upon  the  Gospels,  also  exhibits  many  interesting  views 
and  combinations,  but  they  are  so  interwoven  and  obscur- 
ed with  a  multitude  of  constrained  and  improbable  supposi- 
tions, as  to  be  undiscoverable  without  a  great  deal  of  labor. 
And  now,  as  to  didactical  texts.  The  matter  to  be  treat- 
ed of  in  handling  such  texts,  whether  theoretical  or  prac- 
tical, is  sometimes  in  such  a  form  and  of  such  a  char- 
acter, as  to  leave  a  man  no  choice,  but  to  force  itself  upon 
him  as  the  principal  subject  of  his  discourse,  if  he  v^ould 
not  direcdy  contradict  the  text  itself.  In  this  case,  every 
thing,  as  1  think,  depends  upon,  whether  all  that  is  requi- 
site for  a  fundamental  treatment  of  this  given  subject,  is 
furnished  in  the  text,  and  can  be  deduced,  from  it,  without 
feebleness  or  constraint.  If  so,  a  man  must  confine  him- 
self to  the  text,  and,  by  a  natural  or  free  analysis,  draw 
every  thing  from  it.  In  this  way,  he  will  gain  from  the 
ease  Vvith  which  every  thing  is  comprehended  and  im- 
pressed upon  the  memory,  and  the  manner  in  which  the 
hearers  are  introduced  to  the  Scriptures  and  led  profitably 
to  read  them  and  reflect  upon  them.  If  not,  a  man  should 
bring  his  subject  as  far  as  possible   in  connexion  with  th© 

*  [Ueber  die  Lehren,  Thalen  und  Schicksale  unsers  Herrn.] 


1  LETTER    X.  83 

words  of  the  text,  and  then  supply  all  deficiences  from  his 
own  meditations.  The  sermon  delivered  on  the  first  fast 
of  the  year  1809,  is  an  example  of  the  first  kind.  The 
subject  of  it  as  well  as  all  the  subdivisions,  being  drawn  from 
the  text  itself.  The  sermon  which  was  prepared  for  the 
second  fast  in  1808,  and  '.reats  upon  hkewarmness  in  reli- 
gion, is  an  example  of  We  second.  Every  thing  belong- 
ing to  the  subject  itself  could  not  be  drawn  from  the  text, 
but  it  could  be  easily  supplied  and  brought  in  contact  with 
it.  Tliere  is  also  a  case,  in  which  the  subject  is  so  pre- 
scribed as  not  to  permit  the  selection  of  another  which  is 
appropriate,  especially  when  the  texts  are  short  and  com- 
posed of  a  few  words  or  verses.  More  extended  didacti- 
cal texts  admit  of  a  greater  range  in  the  mode  of  treat- 
ment.    I  pass  on  therefore  to  their  consideration. 

It  is  well  knowa,  that  most  of  the  lessons  taken  from 
the  epistles,  constitute  such  copious  didactical  texts.   There 
are  however,  even  among  them,  two   classes  of  texts,  to 
be  distinguished  from  each  other ;  such  as  are  wholly  de- 
voted to  a  single  subject,  and   such  as  comprise  several. 
To  the  first  class  for   instance,  belong  the  epistle  for  the 
Sunday  Esto  mihi,  1  Cor.  13,  in  which   the    excellencies 
of    Christian  charity  are   extolled,   and    the    epistle    for 
the   eleventli  Sunday  after    Trinity,  1   Cor.  15:  1 — 10, 
which  treats  altogether  of  the  resurrection  of  Christ.     Jn 
handling  such  texts,  if  a  man  prefers  not  to  select  a  single 
circumstance,  and,  omiting   all  the  rest,  enlarge  upon  it 
from  his  own  meditations,  (a  mode  of  sermonizing  which 
greatly   facilitates   the   minister's  progress,  but   prevents 
him  from  doing  ample  justice  to  his  text,)  he  must  ad- 
here firmly  to  the   main  contents  of  the  text,  and  carry 
out   the    given    subject  in  a  natural,  or  a  free  analysis. 
The  method  of  doing  this,  agreeably  to  the  natural  order 
of  the  text,  may  be  seen,  by  consulting  a  sermon  upon  a 
text  taken  from  one  of  the  epistles  and  delivered  in  1806, 
on  the  Sunday  Esto  mihi.     The  epistle  for  the  eleventh 
Sunday  after  Trinity,  on  the  other  hand,  must,  if  one  wish- 
es to  explain  the  principal  thought  it  contains,  the  impor- 
tance of  the  resurrection  of  Jesus,  he  subjected  to  a  free 
analysis  ;  a  process,  which  is  illustrated  by  a  sermon  de- 
livered this  same  year,  upon  this  portion  of  Scripture. 


84  LETTER     X. 

The  minister,  however,  has  to  contend  with  far  more  dif- 
ficuhies,  in  handling  those  didactical  texts  which  contain  as 
it  were  a  collection  of  subjects  which  do  not  properly  be- 
long together.     Most  of  the  sermons  upon  texts  selected 
from  the  episdes,  will  show  any  man  who  examines  them, 
the  advantages  to  be  derived  from  selecting  one   of  the 
subjects  contained  in  such  a  text  and   neglecting  all  the 
rest.     This  class  of  texts  is  commonly  treated  of  agreea- 
bly to  this  very  easy  method.     If  however  a  man  wishes 
to  do  more  justice  to  his  text  and  employ  it  in  its  whole 
extent,  he  must  endeavor  to  obtain  a  general  head  under 
which  all  the  particulars  of  it  can  be  conveniently  arrang- 
ed   in   an   easy   and    agreeable   connexion.     The    mode 
of  doing  this,  I  have   endeavored   to  show,  in   a  sermon 
upon  a  text  taken   from   one  of  the   epistles  and   deliv- 
ered  in   the   year   1806.     As  this  manner   of  handling 
texts  taken  from  the  episdes,  has  been  well  treated,  and  ju- 
diciously and   acutely   explained,   especially  by  the   Rev. 
Mr.  Nebe,  the  only  fault  with  whose  essay  upon  the  sub- 
ject I  have  to  find,  is,  his  extravagant  praise  of  myself,* 
you  will  permit  me,  my  friend,  to  confine  myself  to  a  very 
few  remarks. 

Many  a  text  which  appears  very  barren  in  itself  consid- 
ed,  is  rendered  very  rich  and  productive,  as  soon  as  it  is 
connected  with  a  general  subject,  drawn  from  an  extended 
view  of  it  and  the  connexion  in  which  it  stands.  I  have 
handled  the  difficult  episde  for  the  Sunday  of  Laetare^ 
Gal.  4  :  21 — 31,  in  this  way;  and  it  is  evident  at  first 
glance,  that  the  principal  subject  of  my  discourse  is  per- 
fectly agreeable  to  the  text,  and  yet  sufficiently  interesting, 
to  be  treated  of  in  detail. 

What  I  said  a  litde  back,  respecting  the  necessity  of 
transferring  one's  self  to  the  circumstances  of  time  and 
place  connected  with  the  text,  and  conceiving  them  to  be 
passing  before  his  eyes,  in  order  to  obtain  correct  views  re- 
specting it,  is  also  true  with  regard  to  didactical  texts.  If 
for  instance,  a  man  is  able  to  imagine  all  the  circumstances 
present  under  which  an  apostle  wrote  a  text,  taken  from 

*  This  essay  is  to  be  found  in  the  third  part  of  the  25lh  volume  of  the  Neues. 
Journal  far  Prediger,  S.  257  ff. 


LETTER    X.  85 

one  of  his  epistles,  it  will  be  easy  for  him  to  discover  the 
general  truth  to  which  the  particular  event  narrated, belongs; 
and  by  abstracting  this  truth  from  it,  he  will  be  able  to  make 
a  profitable  use  of  the  various  parts  and  representations  of 
the  text.  The  Sermon  delivered  on  the  eleventh  Sunday 
after  Trinity,  from  the  Epistle  1  Ccr.  9  :  6 — 13,  affords 
the  best  illustration  of  this  point. 

This  lively  conceiving  of  the  circumstances  to  be  present, 
under  which  the  apostles  wrote  their  letters  and  sent  them 
to  the  churches,  is  also  adapted   to  lead   a  man  to  general 
ideas  under  which  to  arrange  and  connect  together  in  an 
appropriate  manner,  all    the   various  contents   of  a  text. 
The  twelfth  chapter  of  the  epistle  of  Paul   to  the  Chris- 
tians at  Rome,  is  well  known  to  be  divided  into  three  les- 
sons, which  must  be   explained   on   the  first,  second,  and 
third  Sunday  after  the  feast  of  Epiphany.     At  the  first 
glance,  this  chapter  appears  to  contain  a  multitude  of  ad- 
monitions and  moral  precepts  having  but  little  connexion 
with  each  other,  and  that,  altogether  of  an  incidental  char- 
acter.    If  however  a  man  imagines  himself  altogether  in 
the  condition  of  the  apostle ;  if  he  asks,  why  the   apostle 
made  exactly  these  suggestions  and   admonitions   and  no 
others  ;  if  he  only  endeavors  to  ascertain,  whether  they 
had  reference  to  the  condiiion  of  Christians  in  that  place 
and  their  relations  to  the  other  parts  of  the  world,  it  will 
soon  be  made  to  appear,  that  the  object  which  the  apostle 
had  before  him,  was,  the  peculiar  and   decided   character 
which  the  Gospel  gave  to  those  who  embraced  it ;  thus 
rendering  them  the  choicest  men  of  the  age.     [{  any  one 
comprehends  this  general  idea,  he  will  discover  the  order 
and  connexion  which  prevails,  at  a  single  glance.     He  will 
perceive,  that  in  the  first  lesson.  Christians  are  distinguish- 
ed from  the  rest  of  the    world   by  being  members  of  a 
church;  in  the  second,  by  their  noble  personality  ;  and  in 
the  third,  by  their  excellencies. 

But  enough,  upon  this  subject.     I  must  ask  your  par- 
don, my  dear  friend,  for  having  entered  into  such  a   de- 
tailed explanation  of  my  usual  manner  of  inventing  themes. 
Had  you  known  how  talkative  I  should   be  upon  this  sub- 
ject, you  would  scarcely  have  mentioned  it.     If  however, 
8 


86  LETTER    XI. 

» 

I  have  said  any  thing  which  will  be  of  use  to  young  min- 
isters, I  am  certain  before  hand  of  your  indulgence. 
Farewell. 


-f 


LETTER    XI. 

Manv  object  to  the  logical  arrang-ement  of  sermons — Answered — The  ar- 
rangement should  not  be  concealed — Points  out  faulty  arrangements  in  his;^ 
sermons — Warns  3'oung  preachers  against  too  great  attention  to  arrange- 
ment— Against  uniformity  of  arrangement. 

My  Dear  Friend —  *  ^ 

You  are  right  in  expecting  me  now  to  give  you  a  more 
extensive  account  of  the  arrangement  and  construction  of 
my  sermons. 

I  have  already  told  you  how  I  was  led  to  the  habit  of 
planning  my  sermons  with  great  strictness  and  precision^ 
according  to  the  rules  of  logic.  This  close  and  sometimes 
almost  painful  adherence  to  order  and  arrangement,  from 
the  manner  in  which  my  intellectual  powers  were  formed 
and  developed,  became  to  me,  as  you  will  observe,  like  a 
second  nature.  The  perverseness  of  my  memory,  of 
which  I  have  already  spoken,  rendered  it  very  difficult  for 
me  to  get  words  and  phrases  by  heart,  or  any  thii  g  but  a 
strictly  connected  and  methodically  arranged  series  of 
thoughts.  I  was  obliged,  therefore,  as  a  matter  of  necessi- 
ty entirely  independent  of  my  will,  to  pay  attention  to  or- 
der. And  finally,  having,  as  I  told  you  above,  after  many 
years  of  experience,  found  it  of  great  utility  for  a  man  to 
make  his  hearers  acquainted  with  the  several  principal 
steps  by  which  his  discourse  advances,  I  am  convinced, 
that  upon  the  whole  it  is  necessary  and  beneficial  for  him, 
to  give  every  sermon  a  logical  arrangement  and  a  firmly 


LETTER  XI. 


87 


connected  and  easily  remembered  plan,  in  order  that  thus, 
attentive  hearers  may  know  distinctly  of  what  the  discourse 
treats,  and  be  able  to  give  an  account  of  it  after  it  is  de- 
livered. 

I  am  well  aware,  that  objections  have  been  made  to  this 
manner  of  sermonizing,  Many  preachers  who  would  fain 
be  looked  upon  as  great  orators,  are  of  the  opinion,  that 
it  is  at  variance  with  the  laws  of  eloquence,  to  bind  one's 
self  in  logical  fetters,  and  altogether  incompatible  with  that 
free  soaring  of  thought,  that  fiery  vehemence,  with  which 
the  orator  must  express  himself.  I  have  only  to  reply, 
that  strict  order  in  a  discourse  is  not  only  consistent  with 
the  idea  of  genuine  eloquence  which  I  drew  from  the  an- 
cients and  stated  above,  but  absolutely  indispensable  to  it. 
Have  not  those  gentlemen  then,  who  would  fain  be  consid- 
ered as  Demoslheneses  and  Ciceros  in  the  pulpit,  (for  I  take 
it  inr  granted  that  they  have  made  themselves  familiar 
with  these  wonderful  men  and  read  their  works  for  them- 
selves.) attentively  observed  with  what  accuracy,  art,  and 
constant  reference  to  the  specific  object  before  them,  they 
arranged  their  discourses,  and,  by  disposing  of  the  several 
parts  agreeably  to  their  relative  importance,  endeavored, 
by  the  happiest  means,  to  render  them  useful  and  produc- 
tive of  the  intended  effect  ?  Of  the  particular  rules  for 
arrangement  laid  down  by  all  rhetoricians,  and  the  earnest- 
ness with  which  attention  to  order  is  recommended,  1  will 
here  say  nothing.  In  general,  however,  people  are  ac- 
quainted with  the  so  called  fiery  and  overpowering  elo- 
quence of  the  ancients,  only  by  hearsay  ;  and  hence,  they 
confound  if'' with  the  irregular,  half-poetical,  and  chatter- 
ing declamations  of  the  luovldbe  orators  of  modern  limes, 
which  rush  as  it  were  from  one  thing  to  another,  and  would 
cease  to  be  overpowering,  that  is,  puzzling,  if  reduced  to 
logical  order.  And  who,  let  me  ask,  among  modern  ora- 
tors, has  paid  stricter  and  more  carefid  attention  to  order, 
than  the  most  celebrated  preach.ers,  as  Saurin,  Bourda- 
loue,  Massillon,  Blair,  for  instance,  and  others;  and  yet 
no  one  accuses  these  men  of  being  destitute  of  vehemence 
and  strength.  Whether  we  look  therefore  to  the  nature 
of  the  case  or  to  the  best  examples  of  every  age,  it  is  as 
clear  as  the  sun,  that  the  rides  of  oratory  not  only  permit 


88  LETTER    XI, 

an  accurate   arrangement  of  what  a  man  has  to  say,  but 
absolutely  demand  it. 

But  a  sermon,  continues  one,  should  not  consist  of  dry  i 


T 


if 


speculation,  or  cold  instruction  for  the  intellect.  Whatev 
er  a  man  says  in  the  church  should  excite  and  cherish  re- 
ligious  feeling, — should  operate  upon  tl)e  heart  and  awak- 
en pious  emotions, — should  exalt  the  hearers  above  the 
affairs  of  time  and  sense,  and  fill  them  with  a  holy  ardor  for 
what  is  divine,  and  eternal.  Now,  what  is  less  adapted  to 
effect  this  great  object,  than  a  scholastic  declamation  care- 
fully cut  out  and  arranged  according  to  the  rules  of  art } 

In  reply  to  this,  in  the   first  place,  it  may  be   observed, 
that  to  impart  instruction  has  at  all  times  and  with  justice,  ^ 

been  looked  upon,  as   the  principal   object  of  preaching; 
and  iience,  the  preacher   has  been  called   the   teacher  of 
the  Gospel.     He  who  banishes  instruction  frooj  the  pulpit 
and  attempts  to  reduce   every  thing   to  the   excitement  of 
emotion,  robs  the  ministerial   office  of  a   great  part  of  its 
usefulness,  and  deprives  the   great    mass  of  the  people  of 
almost  every  opportunity  for  the  enlargement  and  correc- 
tion of  their  religious  knowledge.     Moreover,  I  must  abso- 
lutely deny   the   possibility   of  a   man's   exciting  religious 
feeling  and  rendering' it  salutary  and  productive  of  exalted 
effects,  otherwise  than  by  commencing  with  convincing  in- 
struction and  taking  the   way  through    the  intellect  to  the 
heart.     All  his   efforts  to  raise  emotion  by  operating  upon 
the  imagination,  will  result  in  inflaming  it   and  enkindling 
a  wild-fire,  which  can   prove  of  no   advantage  to  genuine 
piety,  and  may  positively  injure  it.     A  religious  emotion,  to 
be  salutary  and  improving,  and  in  a  rational  and  profitable 
manner  effect  the  exaltation  of  the  mind,  must  be  founded 
upon  a  lively  perception  of  important  truths  vividly  repre- 
sented.    Indeed,  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  of  adiscourse^ 
which  shall  in  reality  take  hold  of,  awaken  and  inspire  the 
man,  and  prepare  the  way  for,  and  raise,  the  emotions  of 
the   heart,  without  instruction.     Now  as  this  instruction 
will  produce  the   most  effect,  if  delivered  with   clearness 
and  proper  arrangement,  it  is  itupossible  to  see  why  strict 
method  should  not  be  combined  with  the  object  of  affect- 
ing the  heart. 

While  you  are  meditating  upon  a  subject,  then,  some 


LETTER   XI.  89 

one  wiil  say,  let  every  thing  be  arranged  in  its  proper 
place  ;  but  when  you  come  to  write  it  out  and  dress  up 
this  skeleton  with  skin  and  flesh,  carefully  conceal  the  va- 
rious parts  from  the  audience  addressed,  and  then,  their 
eyes  will  not  discover  a  skeleton  without  spirit  and  life. 

Let  me  tarry  a  while  at  the  image  which  lies  at  the  foun- 
dation of  this  remfirk.  Nature  does,  indeed,  cover  up  the 
bony  fabric  of  a  beautiful  body  with  tender  parts  of  vari- 
ous kinds,  and  thereby  impart  to  it  those  powerful  charms 
by  which  it  allures  the  beholder  ;  but  does  she,  in  so  doing, 
reduce  it  to  a  mass  of  flesh,  and  make  it  impossible  fur  us 
any  longer  to  distinguish  its  single  parts  and  members,  dis- 
cover their  relation  to  each  other,  or  point  out  their  joints? 
On  the  other  hand,  is  not  this  bony  fabric,  which  constitutes 
the  firm  basis  of  the  whole,  so  completely  visible,  that  one 
can  raadily  see  where  each  member  begins  and  ends,  and 
how  they  are  all  connected  together;  and  is  it  not  this  ap- 
propriaie  and  natural  compactness  and  these  regular  pro- 
portions, which  render  a  beautiful  form  so  pleasing?  Now, 
to  continue  the  image  employed,  a  discourse,  the  whole 
organization,  and  the  skeleton  of  whose  thoughts  are  con- 
cealed by  the  manner  in  which  it  is  written  out,  and  the 
language  in  which  it  is  clothed,  will  not  constitute  a  beau- 
tiful body,  full  of  life  and  motion,  but  can  be  looked  upon, 
as  nothing  more  than  an  unformed  and  helpless  mass  of 
flesh,  which  cannot  be  made  into  any  thing,  or  be  reckon- 
ed among  any  known  class  of  forms.  This,  indeed,  is 
the  impression  wljich  such  discourses  ordinarily  leave  be- 
hind them.  One  who  listens  to  them,  hears  much  that  is 
beautiful,  but  he  cannot  tell  definitely  in  what  it  consists, 
and  is  unable  to  reduce  It  to  any  clear  and  distinct  shape. 
I  cannot  persuade  myself  that  such  discourses  ever  accom- 
plish any  good. 

Pardon  my  prolixity,  my  dear  friend,  in  speaking  of 
this  subject.  You  agree  with  me,  in  the  opinion,  that 
every  good  sermon  must  be  founded  upon  a  correct,  close, 
logical  connexion,  and  have  often  told  me  that  you  were 
highly  pleased  with  the  particularity  with  which  my  ser- 
mons are  generally  composed,  in  this  respect.  I  feel  my- 
self, however,  under  so  much  the  greater  obligations,  not 
only  honestly  to  point  out  some  errors  into  which  1  have 
*8 


90  LETTER   XI. 

fallen  in  regard  to  arrangement,  but  expressly  to  guard 
young  ministers  against  them. 

Far  oflener  than  I  could  wish,  the  fundamental  divisions 
of  my  sermons  are  such  as  can  in  no  wise  be  justified  by 
the  rules  of  logic  ;  or,  to  express  myself  more  correctly, 
instead  of  dividing  the  theme  itself,  1  have  often  arbitrarily 
connected  with  it,  positions  which  it  did  not  contain.     The 
subject  of  the  sixth  sermon,  for  instance,  of  the  first  part 
of  the  sermons  published  at  Wittemberg,  is  the  following : 
How  shall  a  man  conduct,  when,  in  his  religions  inquiries, 
he  is  led  to  strange  opinions^     Now,  the  first  division 
contains  considerations  respecting  the  nature  and  charac- 
ter of  strange  opinions,  and  the  second  shows  how  a  man 
should  conduct  himself,  when  he  is  led  to  such  opinions. 
Now,  it  is  evident,  at  first  glance,  that  this  is  not  a  division 
of  the  subject,  because  the  pretended  second  division  com- 
prehends the  whole  theme,  in  which  the  first  is  not  con- 
tained.    In  order  to  comprehend  these  tvVo  divisions,  the 
theme  should  have  been  expressed  in  more  general  terms. 
If,   for  instance,  the  discourse  had  been.  Respecting  opin- 
iom'in  general  which  have  something  strange  in  them,  then, 
the  first  division   would  properly  have   been  employed  in 
explaining  their  nature  and  character,   and  the  second,  in 
treating  of  them,   and  giving  them  a  critical  examination. 
The  twelfth  sermon  of  the  same  volume,  is  headed  :   Warn- 
ings against  false  conscientiousness,   and  has  three  divi- 
sions ;  [he  first  explains  the  nature  of  this  error  ;  the  second, 
its  signs  and  effects ;  and  the  third  gives  the  reasons  why 
it  should  be  avoided.     In  this  case,  the  two  first  divisions 
are  not  contained  in  tlie  theme,  according  to  which,  I  was 
merely  to  bring  forward  warnings  against  this  error,  while 
the   third  is  the  theme  itself.     Had  the  theme  been  ex- 
pressed thus  :  Respecting  false  conscientiousness,  then  the 
three  preceding  dividons  would  have  sustained  a  proper 
relation  to  it ;  and  I  should  have  had  to  consider  the  na- 
ture of  false  conscientiousness,  its  characteristics,   and  its 
injurious  effects.     The  third  sermon  for  the  year  1798, 
treats  of  the   following  subject:  From   the  unexpected  dis- 
covery of  good  qualities  in  others,  we  should  draw  nourish- 
n.ent  f(>r  our  own  philanthropy.     As  this  position  is  a  the- 
orem  which  required  proof,  it  was  incapable  of  division^ 


LETTER   XI.  91 

land  ••admitted  of  nothing  more  than  an  enumeration  of  the 
reasons  brought  forward  in  its  support.     I  have  divided  it, 
however,  and,  contrary  to  all  the  rules  of  logic,  in  the  first 
division^  given  illustrations  of  the  unexpected  discovery  of 
good  qualities  in  others,  of  which,  however,  there  is  no  in- 
timation in  the  theme  itself;  and,  in   the  second^  done  the 
only  thing  that  ought  to  have  been  done,  brought  forward 
reasons  in  proof  of  the  main  position.     To  adduce  one 
more  example:  The  eighth  sermon  of  the  second  volume 
of  the  sermons  published  at  Wittemberg,  treats  of  the  po- 
sition :   Of  what  importance  should  ive  deem  the  thought, 
that  eternity  constitutes  the  exterior  hound  of  every  thing 
unstable.     In   dividing  it,  1   enter  into  an  examination  of 
the  meaning,  truth,  and  importance  of  this  position.    This, 
however,  is  not  a  logical  division,  for  ihe  first  and  second 
heads  are  not  contained  in  the  theme,  while  the  third  con- 
stitutes the  theme  itself.     It  would   have  been  no  more 
than  tolerable,  had  the  theme  expressed  nothing  but  the 
thought  in  general,  without  any  reference  to  its  importance. 
The  examples  now  brought  forward  will  be  sufficient  to 
designate  the  error  I  had  in  view.     In  them,  as  every  one 
will  see,  I  have  so  obviously  contradicted  the  rules  of  logic 
in  my  divisions,  as  to  be  incapable  of  excuse.     That  one 
should  occasionally  fall  into  this  error,  in  spite  of  effort  to 
the  contrary,  is  to  be  expected  ;  but  I  have  fallen  into  it 
so  often,  that  I  am  ashamed  of  it.     Any  one  who  wishes 
for  more  instances  of  the   same  kind,   may  examine  the 
second  sermon  of  the  second  volume  of  the  sermons  pub- 
lished at  Wittemberg.  the  seventh  of  the  sermons  of  1797, 
the  sixth  and  the  thirty-seventh  of  those  of  the  year  1798, 
and  the  forty-third  of  the  y#ar   1799.     Such  being  my 
faults  in  this  respect,  I  feel  under  so  much  the  greater  ob- 
ligations to  guard  others  against  them. 

Another  fault  exhibited  in  many  of  my  sermons,  is  far 
too  anxious  an  effort  to  divide  them  perfectly  methodical- 
ly, and  connect  all  their  parts  closely  together.  From  one 
of  my  preceding  letters,  you  have  already  learned,  my  dear 
friend,  how  I  came  by  this  stiff,  scholastic  habit,  and  why 
I  have  retained  it  so  long.*  I  cannot,  by  any  means,  re- 
commend it  for  imitation  ;  in  part,  because  such  laborious 

•  See  letter  eighth. 


92  LETTER    XI. 


I 


preparations  ere  not  necessary  for  accomplishing  the  Aiakl 
object  of  preaching,  and  in  part,  and  especially,  because  it 
may  be  productive  of  evil,  in  case  a  man   has  to  do  with  j 

common   hearers,   who  are  unpractised  in  thinking.     Ex- 
amples of  this  too  great  particularity  in  defining  and  classi- 
fying,  are  to   he  met  with  especially  in  my  old  sermons; 
in  those  which  I  have  written  of  late  years,  1  have  endeav- 
ored to  avoid  it,  without,  I  hope,  running  into  the  error  of 
handling  the  subjects  which  came  up,  in   a    less  thorough 
manner.    Even  here,  also,  for  the  sake  of  clearness,  it  will 
be  necessary  for  me  to   illustrate   what  1  mean,  by  a  few 
examples.     Compare,  therefore,  the  fourth  sermon  of  the  ^ 
first    volume   of  the   sermons   published    at   Wittemberg, 
which  treats  of  Power  to  control  the  imagination  ;  the  first 
division   of  which   resembles  a  regularly  composed   and 
methodically  divided  fragment  of  a  treatise  upon   psychol- 
ogy.    The  same  remark  holds  true  of  {he  first  division  of 
the  seventh   sermon  of  the  same  volume  ;  ibr  of  what  use 
are  all  those  illustrations  respecting  the  nature,  classes,  and 
origin,  of  pious  emotions?     As  every  body  knows  what  is 
meant  by  pious  emotions  in  general,  could  not  every  thing 
necessary  have  been  said  in  a   few  W(irds  or  periods?     In 
the  eleventh  sennon  of  the  second   volume,  the   explana- 
tion given  of  the   manner  in  which  God  exh.ibits  the  inter- 
nal worth  of  creatures  by  external  signs,  is  far  too  circum- 
stantial and  scholastic,  and  all  who  read  it,  will  directly  feel, 
that  every  thing  upon  this  part  of  the  subject,  inight  have 
been  said   in  fewer  words,  and  far  more  natural  language, 
without  doing  any  injury  to  the  thoroughness  of  the  view. 
In  the  first  Whitsuntide  sermon  of  the   year  1798,   which 
treats  of  spii-itual  experience,  in  the^r^^  part,  far  too  much, 
and   not   altogether  appropriate  effort  is  made,   by  way  of 
preparation,   in   what  is  said  with  such  detail  respecting 
general   and  moral  experience,  inasmuch  as   the  idea  of 
spiritual  experience  would  have   had   sufficient  clearness, 
without  all  these  introductory  explanations.     The  twenty- 
seventh  sermon  of  1799  has  not  only  the  error  formerly 
alluded  to,  of  not  being  logically  and  correctly  divided,  but 
in  the  first  |)art,  is  burdened  with  illustrations  of  such  ideas 
as  are  generally  known,  and  should  have  been  only  briefly 
touched.     That  in  writing  out  a  sermon,  every  grand  idea 


LETTER   XI. 


93 


should  be  rendered  clear  by  correct  definitions,  is  perfect- 
ly evident ;  otherwise,  a  man  will  not  master  his  snbject, 
and  speak  it. with  the  requisite  application.  But  this  logi- 
cal and  preparatory  labor  does  not  belong  to  the  sermon 
itself,  in  wliicli  every  thing  must  be  intelligibly  represent- 
ed, without  any  pedantic  analysis  of  the  subject.  Young 
preachers  should  be  warned  to  guard  so  much  the  more 
against  this  error,  from  the  fact,  that  a  man  plenses  him- 
self in  the  thing,  from  the  appearance  which  it  o;ives  hioi 
of  philosophical  acuteness,  and  the  opinion  in  which  he  in- 
dulges, that  it  will  increase  his  authority.* 

Finally,  I  cannot  deny,  that  far  too  much  uniformity 
prevails  in  the  arrangement  or  division  of  my  sermons  ;  an 
objection  which  has  already,  at  different  times,  been  made 
against  them.  This  uniformity  originated,  in  part,  in  the 
nature  of  the  thing.  A  large  proportion  of  subjects  must 
be  divided  alike,  if  treated  in  the  best  and  most  natural 
manner;  and  a  man  will  fall  into  artificialness,  or  fail  to 
do  them  justice,  if  he  divides  them  in  any  other  way.  The 
nature  of  the  case,  for  example,  requires  a  man,  in  every 
good  sermon  he  preaches,  to  instruct  the  intellect  with  re- 
ference to  every  thing  upon  which  he  speaks,  and  then  ap- 
ply the  whole  to  the  improvement  of  the  heart  and  life  ;  or, 
which  is  the  same  thing,  the  first  part  should  be  theoreti- 
cal, the  second  practical.  It  is  impossible,  therefore,  to 
avoid  the  frequent  recurrence  of  this  mode  of  dividing  a 
sermon,  and  hence,  it  cannot  be  blamed.  The  same  is 
likewise  true  of  certain  trichotomies  which  are  too  natural 
not  to  be  often  employed.  It  is  very  natural  for  him  who 
has  to  speak  upon  an  interesting  subject,  to  explain,  prove, 
and  apply.  He  who  treats  of  an  important  duty,  must,  in 
like  manner,  explain  it,  and  prove  it,  and  lead  the  way  to 
its  practice.  He  who  recommends  a  virtue,  must  give  a 
clear  notion  of  it,  speak  of  its  importance,  and  show  by 
what  exercises  one  can  make  it  his  own,  he.  In  such 
cases,  the  principal  divisions  are,  in  a  manner,  already 
given,  and  in  handling  such  subjects,  a  man  injures  them 
rather  than  otherwise,  if  he  attempts  to  divide  them  in  any 
other  manner. 

*  Hence,  Greiling  is  perfectly  correct,  in  warning  ministers  against  a  blind 
imitation  of  my  sermons  in  this  respect.    Tbeorie  der  Popularitat,  S.  113  and 


94  LETTER    XI. 

I  will  not,  by  any  means,  deny,  however,  that  the  divis" 
ions  and  plans  of  my  sermons  are  frequently  uniform,  when 
there  was  room  for  choice  in  the  arrangement ;  and  hence, 
when  the  train  of  thought  would  have  admitted  of  greater 
variety.  This  was  not  only  correctly  remarked  upon  some 
years  since,  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Linde,  the  author  of  the  in- 
structive work  entitled  :  "  Reinhard  and  Ammon,  or  par- 
allel sermons  as  a  contribution  to  Homiletics,  particular- 
ly to  arrangement  and  composition,"^  but  on  p.  79  ff.,  ac- 
companied with  many  interesting  reflections,  of  quite  an 
indulgent  character  as  regards  myself.  This  uniformity  in 
arrangement  is  well  foimdejd,  if  it  originates  in  a  kind  of 
inclination  for  symmetry,  which  exerted  so  much  the  more 
influence  upon  myself,  from  the  fact  that  it  proved  so  ad- 
vantageous to  my  memory,  enabling  me  e;isi!y  to  call  to 
mind  those  parts  which  were  thus  accurately  pro[>ortioned. 
That  I  ever  made  symmetry,  however,  an  object  of  atten- 
tion, at  the  expense  of  the  subject  itself;  that,  for  instance, 
1  ever  cut  away  parts  which  belonged  t'>  the  subject,  or 
introduced  parts  entirely  foreign  from  it,  m  order  to  have 
more  or  less  divisions  or  sub-divisions  than  I  deemed  ne- 
cessary to  the  harmony  of  the  whole,  is,  at  least,  a  thing 
which  I  am  not  conscious  of  ever  having  done.  Hence, 
instances  are  to  be  found  in  which  this  symmetry  is  neglect- 
ed, as  the  sul)ject  I  was  at  work  upon,  required  soniething 
else,  and  Mr.  Linde,  on  the  82d  page,  has  brought  for- 
ward such  an  instance.  Hence,  in  my  fast  sermons,  two 
of  which  usually  treat  upon  the  same  text,  the  second  fre- 
quently takes  a  course  entirely  different  from  the  first,  in- 
asmuch as  the  subject  which  it  handles,  which  is  an  appli- 
cation of  the  theory  explained  in  the  first,  either  required 
or  admitted  a  different  arransiement.v 

In  view  of  all  that  has  now  been  said,  I  must  request 
young  preachers  not  to  regard  every  thing  symmetrical  in 
my  sermons,  as  an  excellency  worthy  of  imitation  without 
the  exercise  of  great  caution.  It  should  be  so  regarded 
only  when  this  uniformity  of  divisions  and  sub-divisions  is 
suggested  by  the  subject  itself,  and  far  more  radical  and 
natural,  than  any  other  would  be.  Where  this  is  not  the 
case, — where    a  free   division  of  the   subject  appears  to 

*  Reinhard  und  Ammon  oder  Predigten  Parallele;  K6nigsb.l800, 


■■  1 
1 


LETTER    XII.  95 

have  the  advantage  of  enabling  a  man  to  treat  it  in  a  more 
thorougli  manner,or  introduce  a  greater  variety  into  his  dis- 
course, it  should  certainly  be  preferred.  My  later  sermons 
do  in  reality  exhibit  a  greater  degree  of  variety,  than  my 
others.  At  least,  I  have  endeavored  to  be  guided  in  their 
arrangement,  by  the  subject  selected  and.  the  principal  di- 
visions which  naturally  belonged  to  it,  rather  than  an  incli- 
nation to  symmetry  and  an  artificial  admeasurement  of  di- 
visions and  sub-divisions.  But  enough  of  this  thing.  Per- 
mit me,  my  dear  friend,  in  my  next  letter,  to  give  you 
some  account  of  the  composition  and  execution  of  my 
sermons,  and  draw  these  confessions  to  a  close.  Fare- 
well.* 


LETTER   XII. 


Speaks  of  the  composition  of  his  Sermons— Their  defects— Not  adapted  to 
country  congregations— Examples— Difference  of  ancient  and  modern  el- 
oquence—Has used  some  figures  of  speech  too  often— Failed  of  easy  tran- 
sitions—Of a  correct  use  of  pronouns— Criticisms— Of  publishing  a  sele«- 
tiou  of  his  Sermons. 

My  Dear  Friend — 

There  is  one  other  subject  to  speak  of,  namely  the 
composition  of  my  sermons,  or  what  the  ancient  rhetori- 
cians called  elocution  ;  and  hence,  their  style.  It  is  a 
subject  of  which  much  might  be  said.  You  will  permit 
me,  however,  to  treat  it  with  brevity,  and  take  notice  only 

*  [Many  excellent  remarks  upon  the  arrangement  of  Reinhard's  sermons 
might  here  be  added  from  others,  particularly  Tzschirner  s  IJriefe,  &c.  but 
brevity  forbids.  This  last  work  upon  the  whole  subject  of  these  letters,  is  well 
worthy  of  being  read.  Some  farther  notice  will  be  taken  of  R.'s  Sermons  m 
Part  Second.] 


%'  LETTER    XII. 

of  their  defects  or  imperfections  in  this  respect,  or  at  least, 
of  what  I  do  not  wish  to  have  imitated  before  mixed  as- 
semblies or  country  churches.  In  the  first  place,  I  must 
confess  in  general  terms,  that  I  have  never  as  yet,  been 
able  entirely  to  satisfy  myself  in  regard  to  the  elocution  of 
my  sermons.  Indeed,  I  have  never  been  able  to  devote 
so  much  lime  and  labor  to  them,  as  is  requisite  to  perfect 
diction.  It  is  impossible  for  him,  who  under  a  pressure  of 
business  and  amidst  unavoidable  disturbances,  is  obliged  to 
preach  once  every  week,  and  occasionally,  oftener,  to  pro- 
duce any  thing  very  excellent  in  its  kind.  Under  such 
circumstances,  one  cannot  find  time  for  the  multa  lititra 
in  which  alone  excellence  can  originate,  there  often  being 
scarcely  enough  left  for  writing  down  what  a  man  wishes  to 
say  upon  paper.*  Hence,  whenever  I  read  my  sermons 
with  critical  accuracy,  in  the  style  and  dress,  I  every  where 
discover  imperfections  and  defects  which  might  have  been 
avoided,  had  I  possessed  more  time,  or  been  able  to  work 
them  over  and  improve  them.  Did  these  imperfections 
consist  merely  in  my  occasionally  commencing  a  sermon 
with  two  or  three  sliort  syllables,  as  has  justly  been  ob- 
jected to  them  by  Grafe,f  I  should  comfort  myself  with 
the  reflection,  that  such  a  master  as  Cicero  commenced  a 
powerful  oration  with  venio.^     The   defects  of  which  I 

*  [What  then  must  be  said  of  writing'three  sermons  a  week,  under  a  pres- 
sure of  other  parochial  duties?  Where  is  there  any  lime  left  for  thought,  rhe- 
torical preparation,  and  holy  communion  with  God  ?  Besides,  is  it  not  as  well 
to  preach  extempore,  as  to  read  a  sermon  written  extempore  ?  To  come 
at  the  point  at  once  ?  Should  not  the  grand  object  of  an  education  be,  to  ena- 
ble a  mail  to  pour  forth  the  rich  treasures  of  his  own  mind  into  the  minds  of 
others,  without  being  subjected  to  the  slavish  necessity  of  writing  them  down 
in  the  first  place  ?  True,  it  is  an  object  of  great  elevation  and  difficult  attain- 
ment. Nothing  but  deep  practical  thinking,  close  attention  to  philosophy;  in- 
timate acquaintance  with  the  human  heart,  susceptibility  of  emotion,  and  a 
thorough  knowledge  of  language,  will  enable  one  to  reach  it  3  but  does  not 
the  cause  of  truth  require  every  student  for  the  ministry  to  make  the  effort  1 
Once  attained,  what  power  would  it  put  into  his  hands  ?  All  the  time  now 
devoted  to  the  mechanical  process  of  writing,  might  then  be  devoted  to  ener- 
getic thinking ;  and  looks,  actions,  tones  of  voice,  nay,  eloquence  herself,  be 
brought  to  the  minister's  aid.  Then,  we  might  expect  him  to  catch  the  inspi- 
ration of  the  revivals  which  now  light  up  the  church  and  begin  to  roll  their  in- 
fluence over  the  world,  and  hear  hmi  speak  in  the  pulpit,  not  like  a  timid  child, 
afraid  of  offending  his  audience,  with  his  head  pouring  over  his  notes,  but  like 
an  ambassador  of  God^  full  of  awful  solemnity,  with  a  message  fresh  from  the 
portals  of  heaven  ] 

■f  See  his  Anweisung  zum  Rhytmus  in  homilelischer  und  liturgischer  Hifl- 
sicht,S.  118.  t,  J  6 

t  Compare  Accusationis  in  C.  Verrem,  lib;  IV. 


\\ 


LETTER    XII.  97 

speak  are  of  a  far  higher  character.  They  may  be  stated 
in  general  terms,  as  follows  :  The  expression  is  not  always 
as  excellent,  definite  and  intelligible,  as  it  ought  to  be,  is 
not  rich  enough,  and  does  not  contain  sufficient  variety^' 
Sometimes  it  is  too  brief  and  not  sufficiently  clear;  at  oth- 
ers, it  is  too  verbose,  and  contains  something  that  is  super- 
fluous. It  is  often  destitute  of  that  easy  movement,  that 
ready  flow,  in  which  every  thing  seems  to  spring  naturally 
forth  of  itself.  Sometimes  the  ear  is  offended  by  a  disa- 
greeable location  of  the  words;  at  others,  it  is  displeased, 
or  filled  with  one  that  is  defective.  And  finally,  the  trans- 
ition from  one  part  to  another,  is  not  always  sufficiently 
easy  and  natural,  too  often  recurs,  and  exhibits  too  great 
an  appearance  of  uniformity.  Permit  me,  my  dear  friend, 
to  make  a  few  definite  remarks  respecting  these  several 
points  of  complaint,  without  pretending  to  follow  the  order 
in  which  they  have  been  named.  That  the  diction  of  my 
sermons  does  not  always  possess  that  clearness  and  sim- 
plicity which  it  ought  to ;  that  I  have  made  use  of  a  mul- 
titude of  words  and  phrases  which  can  be  understood  only 
by  those  who  are  acquainted  with  our  book  language,  or  at 
least,  by  those  who  have  had  some  degree  of  scientific  ed- 
ucation, I  willingly  admit.  1  will  go  so  far  as  to  confess, 
that  in  view  of  my  relations,  and  the  churches  before  which 
I  had  to  preach,  I  considered  myself  not  only  authorized, 
but  in  a  manner  obliged,  to  make  use  of  this  style  and  lan- 
guage. 

At  VVittemberg,  I  preached  in  the  University  Church, 
and  most  of  my  common  hearers  were  learned  men  and 
students.  In  addressing  this  audience,  of  course,  I  could 
make  use  of  many  representations,  expressions  and  figures 
of  speech,  which  would  have  been  altogether  improper 
before  any  other;  and  beins;  in  the  habit  of  using  scientific 
expressions  during  the  whole  week,  it  was  natural  for  me 
to  introduce  them  into  the  discourses  I  wrote  for  the  Sab- 
bath. In  Dresden,  I  was  placed  over  a  church,  which  was 
either  composed  of  well  educated  men,  or  such  as  were 
acquainted  with  our  best  writers;  and  hence,  in  addressing 
it,  1  was  at  liberty  to  make  use  of  the  book  language,  and  a 
style,  altogether  above  the  comprehension  of  common  peo- 
9 


98  LETTER    XII. 

pie.     Indeed,  I  was  obliged  to  do  so,  or  create  displeas- 
ure or  offence. 

1  liope,  however,  that  no  one  will  think  of  wrinno;  and 
speaking  as  I  did,  who  has  to  address  a  very  mixed  as- 
sembly, or  merely  country  people.  1  am  altogether  op- 
posed, indeed,to  that  false  clearntss  and  simplicity,  in  which 
a  man  speaks  to  grown  persons  as  children,  and  degener- 
ates into  what  is  flat  and  vulgar.  The  preacher  should 
not  lower  himself  down  to  ihe  vulgar  capacities  of  the 
populace,  but  he  should  elevate  his  hearers  lo  himself; 
and  hence,  at  all  times  avail  himself  of  a  serious,  dignified, 
and  select  diction.  In  so  doing,  however,  he  must  avoid 
those  turns  and  expressions  with  which  ignorant  or  poorly 
educated  people  can  connect  no  ideas,  or  only  wrong 
ones,  and  make  use  of  those  which  are  well  known,  or  ex- 
actly describe  the  thing  intended.  An  example  will  best 
illustrate  what  I  mean. 

The  thirtieth  Sermon  cf  1799,  treats  of  the  theme: 
How  Christians  should  regard  their  location  in  time.  In 
this  case  the  subject  is  nni  expressed  in  language  sufficient- 
ly clear.  A  conmion  person  will  not  know  what  to  make 
of  the  clause,  his  location  in  time.  For  such  an  one,  the 
theme  should  have  been  thus  expressed  :  How  Chris- 
tians should  regard  the  time  in  which  God  permits 
them  to  live.  In  my  examination  and  illustration  of  this 
theme,  I  have  used  a  muhimde  of  turns  and  expressions 
which  can  be  understood  only  by  well  educated  people. 
For  instance,  in  the  introduction,  I  have  personified  time, 
and  called  upon  her  cliihhen  fnr  that  help,  which,  in 
common  language,  siiould  be  sought  for,  from,  and  ascrib- 
ed to,  God  ;  and  used  the  phrnses :   Periodeder  vergang- 

enheit unter    den  Bedini^vni'en   der  Zeit  stehcn — die 

Zeit  nimmt  uns  nicht  wiederauf,  wenn  wir  uns  ihr  einmal 
entzogen  haben — schwarmprische  Scher — ihre  Periode  soil 
toruber  seyn^u.s.w.^  which  are  altogether  above  common 
intellects  ;  and  the  body  of  the  sermon  is  full  of  instjmces 
of  this  kind,  and  if  any  one  wishes  to  find  a  passiige  in 
which  they  are  heaped  together  in  great  abundance,  he 
may  consult  the  first  sub-ciivi.^ion  of  the  third  part,  rom- 
mencing  ;  Vcrhlendung  uenne  ich  den  S'^o/z,  nnd  ending; 
dieser  Stalz  ist  wahre  Verhhndvns!^.  The  subjects 
of  this  sub-division,  are  sufficiently  intelligible  for  any  coun- 


LETTER    XII.  99 

try  ^illa2;e ;  but  they  are  treated  of  in  such  language,  that  I 
have  no  idea  they  would  be  understood,  if  declaimed  to  such 
a  village  by  a  rapid  speaker.  In  short,  should  1  accurately 
examine  this  sermon,  I  should  find  a  multitude  of  words,  like 
strange  coin,  altogether  unknown  to  the  common  people, 
having  never  been  in  circulation  among  them.  I  have 
said  enough,  however,  to  show,  that,  as  1  did  not  write  for 
a  country  congregation,  my  sermons  are  not  intelligible  to 
all,  and  hence,  are  by  no  means  to  be  imitated  by  those 
who  preach  to  country  people.* 

And  here  I  must  make  some  remarks  respecting  a  dif- 
ference as  I  think,  to  be  noted,  between  ancient  and  mod- 
ern eloquence.  The  ancient  orator,  strictly  speaking, 
never  addressed  a  mixed  assembly.  His  heareis  had  an 
equal  degree  of  education,  as  regarded  the  main  subject, 
and  were  alike  acquainted  witli  and  interested  in,  the  point 
in  question,  respecting  which,  as  it  was  a  matter  purely  of 
common  life,  they  believed  themselves  equally  competent 
10  decide.  He  was  not  merely  at  liberty,  therefore,  but 
he  was  obliged,  to  use  those  expressions  only,  which  were 
generally  known  and  commonly  employed  ;  and  the 
amount  of  words  in  circulation  were  amply  sufficient  to 
enable  him  to  say  whatever  he  wished.  Had  he  used 
poetical  forms  or  philosophical  expressions,  he  would  have 
been  ridiculed,  as  he  would  have  departed  from  the  prac- 
tices of  common  life  without  any  just  occasion  whatever.f 
With  the  modern  orator,  and  especially  the  preacher,  ev- 
ery thing  is  different.  The  ait  of  printing,  by  the  facility 
with  which  it  spreads  all  kinds  of  writings  abroad,  has  in 
modern  time^  formed  a  reading  public  as  it  is  called,  of 
which  the  ancients  were  totally  ignorant.  When  writers 
sought  to  impart  every  thing  to  this  public  which  could 
be  interesting  to  man,  and  began  even  to  reduce  the  ab- 
stract sciences  to  a  po[)ular  form,  they  were  obliged  to 
form  a  language  altogether  peculiar,  and  entirely  different 
from   that  used  by  the  mere  speaking  and  talking  public, 

*  The  Remarks  of  Greilinj^,  Von  der  hohern  iind  niedern  Popularitat,  in  the 
work  already  quoted  :  Theorie  der  Popularitat,  ^  51  S.  97  ff.  are  well  worth 
atlenlion. 

t  Hence,  the  reason  why  Cicero  made  so  many  apologies  whenever  he 
wished  to  use  philosophic-al  and  scienlifie  exfjressions.  See  Pro  ArchiaPoeta 
c.  %;  al  io  the  couclusion  of  this  Oration,  and  Pro  Murena,  c.  29.  ' 


100 


LETTER    XII. 


and  which,  as  it  is  to  be  met  with  only  in  books,  may  with 
propriety  be  called  the  hook  language.  Hence,  originat- 
ed necessities  which  threw  the  modern  orator,  and  espec- 
ially the  preaclier,  into  an  embarrassment,  of  which  the 
ancient  orators  knew  nothing."^  If,  for  instance,  nhe  preach- 
er makes  use  altogether  of  those  expressions  which  are 
universally  known  and  employed  in  common  life,  he  of- 
fends what  is  called  the  reading  public, — a  class  of  people 
accustomed  to  a  language  of  a  higher  cast,  which  they 
have  acquired,  if  in  no  other  way,  by  reading  novels  and 
romances,  and  who  of  course  look  upon  the  preacher's 
language,  as  too  vulgar, — and  hence,  cannot  endiu'e  it.  If, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  preacher  uses  the  book  language  or 
mingles  it  wiih  the  other,  he  renders  himself  unintelligible 
to  those  who  do  not  read,  and  addresses  himself  to  them 
in  words  and  phrases  in  which  they  cannot  tl)ink.  Such 
being  the  embarrassing  and  conflicting  wants  and  demands 
of  the  modern  world,  it  is  almost  impossible  for  a  man  to  do 
justice  to. every  individual  of  a  very  mixed  audience,  com- 
posed of  the  learned  and  the  unlearned.  At  least,  I  am  cer- 
tain that  I  sliould  not  succeed  in  atlempting  to  puisue  a  mid- 
dle course,  which,  while  it  pleased  the  educated,  should  be 
intelligible  to  the  uneducated.  Hence,  1  have  ever  con- 
sidered it  as  a  cause  of  great  congratulation,  that  my  pub- 
lic audiences  have  always  been  of  a  uniform  character  and 
well  acquainted  with  the  book  language.  This  fact  has 
justified  me  in  writing,  nay,  obliged  me  to  write,  as  I  have 
done,  whereas,  if  I  had  been  a  country  minister,  or  obliged 
to  preach  to  mixed  assemblies,  I  should  have  proceeded 
in  a  manner  entirely  different,  and  endeavored  to  use  the 
language  between  those  two  extremes,  of  winch  I  have  al- 
ready spoken.  With  these  remarks  before  them,  intelli- 
gent hearers  will  not  find  it  difficult  to  ascertain,  what  parts 
of  my  sermons  are  not  written  in  a  sufiiciently  popular 
style,  and  hence,  what  parts  and  phrases  they  should  by  no 
means  think  of  imitating. 

One  of  the  great  faults  of  my  sermons,  is,  a  too  frequent 
use  of  certain  figuresofspeech,  especially  the  interrogation. 


*  Chrysostom,  however,  early  beg'an  to  complain  of  something  of  the  same 
Jdnd.     De  Sacerdot,  1.  V.  c,  J.  stqq. 


LETTER    XII.  101 

It  does  indeed  give  a  discourse  more  vivacity  and  im- 
pression, to  transform  those  positions  which  the  preacher 
deems  of  especial  importance  to  the  hearers,  into  questions, 
addressed  immediately  to  the  decision  as  it  were,  of  their 
judgments.  But  I  cannot  deny,  that  I  have  sometimes 
introduced  this  mode  of  speech  where  it  was  inappropriate, 
and  every  thing  would  have  been  better,  categorically  ex- 
pressed. Besides,  the  too  frequent  use  of  this  figure 
creates  a  uniformity  which  is  disagreeable.  Indeed,  a 
man  wlio  makes  a  too  frequent  use  of  the  interrogation, 
will  fail  of  accomplishing  his  object.  The  very  fact,  that 
it  is  often  introduced  and  rendered  as  it  were  common, 
will  deprive  it  of  all  effect.  That  it  increases  the  difficul- 
ty of  uttering  a  discourse  and  occasions  a  greater  exer- 
tion of  the  lungs.  I  will  not  even  mention.  Here  and 
there  I  liave  also  too  frequently  introduced  the  exclama- 
tion. I  believe,  however,  that  I  have  made  a  bad  use  of 
this  figure,  less  frequently  than  of  the  other. 

The  art  of  making  the  transitions  from  one  division  or 
sub-division  to  anotlier  in  a  natural  and  easy  manner,  has 
something  in   it  altogether    peculiar.     These    transitions 
may  be  compared  to  the  joints  of  a  body.     Without  joints 
the  body  would  be  stiff  and  helpless,  and  without  those  of 
sufficient   pliability,    be    racked    with    every   movement. 
That  1  have  taken  great  pains  to  connect  the  parts  of  my 
sermons  together  in  a  natural  and  easy  manner,  is  a  thing 
of  which  I  am  perfectly  conscious.     I  have  never  suc- 
ceeded, however,  in  doing  justice  to  myself  in  this  respect. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  transitions  of  many  of  my  sermons, 
are  not  only  sometimes  unnatural  and  constrained,  but  of- 
ten too  uniform.     The  former  appears  to  me  to  be  fre- 
quently the  case  with  the  connexions  of  the  grand  divis- 
ions.    With  all  my   efforts  so   to  add   the  main  parts  to 
each  other,  that  they  should  seem  to  rise  of  their  own  ac- 
cord, I  have  often  come  far  short  of  success.     I  hope, 
therefore,  that  none  who  read  my  sermons  will  take  them 
as  correct  guides  in  this  respect,  but  aim  at  a  far  higher 
degree  of  perfection.     The  other  fault,  or  too  great  uni- 
formity in  the  transitions,  is  particularly  conspicuous  in  the 
sub-divisions.     Often,  indeed,   these  transitions  are  quite 
•easy  and  natural,  especially  when  the  words  with  which 
*9 


102  LETTER    XIl. 

a  division  closes,  remind  the  reader  of,  and  prepare  him  for, 
the  succeeding  one  ;*  when  the  grand  division  is  of  such 
a  character,  that  one  part  follows  from  another ;  and  final- 
ly, when  there  is  a  gradation  in  the  parts.  If,  however,  any 
person  reads  a  number  of  my  sermons  in  succession,  he  will 
find  these  easy  and  natural  transitions  frequently  returning, 
and  too  little  diversified.  This  is  a  subject,  also,  upon 
which  those  must  reflect,  who  wish  to  render  their  dis- 
courses highly  perfect. 

In  discourses  which  are  accurately  arranged  and  divid- 
ed into  the   parts  which  are  to  be   closely  remarked  upon 
and  impressed  upon  the  memory,  nothing  is  more  natural, 
than  that  one  should  frequently  avail  himself  of  that  kind 
of  transition  which  the  ancient  rhetoricians  called  co'iiplex- 
ion.     Tliis  mode  of  concluding  a   point  is  extremely   ap- 
propriate, because   it  repeats  the   explained    and   proved 
series  of  thought,  ordinarily  in  the  very  same  expressions 
in  which  it  was  originally  stated,  and  again  as  it  were,  re- 
commends it  to  the  memory.  From  the  whole  construction 
of  my  sermons,  every  thing  they  contained,  being  divided 
into  parts  as  the  principal  subjects  of  remarks  and   reflec- 
tionss  I  was  almost  necessarily  inclined,  to  make  a  frequent 
use  o^  ihe  complexion  ;  in  part,  for  the  perfection  of  every 
division  :  and  in  part,  for  the   sake  of  an   easy  transition 
from  one  subject  to   another,   making   the  progression  of 
the  whole  treatise  the  more  obvious,  and  rendering  it  easy 
for  the  hearer  to   draw  the   conclusion.     Even  in  this  re- 
spect, however,  I  have  not  always  observed  due  modera- 
tion.    I  have  often  used   the    complexion  with  too  great 
uniformity,  even  where  it  might  have  been  omitted,  without 
doing  any  prejudice  to  the  discourse;  and  I  might,  and  for 
the  sake  of  variety,  should,  have  selected   a  more  appro- 
priate mode  of  connexion   and  transition.     Here  then  is 
another   imperfection   which    every   one  should  seek  to 
avoid,  in  working  out  his  discourses. 

1  have  always  had  considerable  difficulty  in  making  a 
proper  use  of  pronouns.  Indeed,  I  have  taken  great  pains 
so  to  use  them,  that  all  ambiguity  by  the  reference  of  them 

*Upon  this  suhject  consult  Wachter's  masterly  l)ut  too  laudatory  analysis, 
of  one  of  my  sermons,  in  the  second  volume  of  the  AUgem.  praktisch.  Biblio~ 
thek  fQr  i'retliger  uud  fcJchulmJjinner.  S.  165  £ 


LETTER    XII.  103 

to  a  wrong  antecedent  should  be  Impossible,  and  yet  have 
often  failed  in  the  attempt.  In  reading  my  sermons,  I 
constantly  stumble  upon  passages  extre(nely  defective  in 
this  respect.  A  passage  commencing,  Gott  hat  iinsern 
Geist,  §-c..  Sermon  24th  of  1799,  p.  404,  is  a  notable  in- 
stance ;  for,  in  the  course  of  a  few  sentences,  there  is  a 
perfect  obscurity,  the  pronouns  being  equally  referrible  to 
Gott,  Geist,  or  Korper.  The  sentence  commencing, 
Himmlische,  von  Gott,  and  ending  der  Juden  geivorden, 
in  the  first  remarks  of  the  Reformation  Sermon  of  1796, 
is  a  similar  instance;  the  nouns.  Religion  and  fVarheit 
together  with  the  pronouns  and  adjectives  referring  to 
them,  being  completely  blended  together,  so  that  the  an- 
tecedents to  which  they  respectively  refer,  cannot  be  dis- 
tinguished. That  it  is  difficult  to  avoid  all  obscurity  of 
this  kind,  I  am  ready  to  acknowledge.  It  can  often  be 
done  only  by  completely  changing  the  train  of  thought,  and 
casting  it  into  another  form.^  True,  the  reference  of  these 
ambiguous  pronouns  can  generally  be  ascertained  from 
the  connexion  of  the  sentence  and  the  nature  of  the  sub- 
ject. It  should  be  recollected,  however,  that,  in  listening 
to  a  speaker,  the  hearer  has  no  time  to  compare  the  con- 
text, or  pry  into  the  nature  of  the  subject,  but  he  is  under 
the  necessity  of  listening  to  what  continues  to  be  said,  and 
passing  by  what  he  does  not  apprehend  upon  the  spot.  I 
must  maintain,  therefore,  that  every  writer  who  wishes  to 
become  master  of  a  good  style,  must  be  as  careful  as  pos- 
sible to  avoid  all  such  imperfections. 

I  might  bring  forward  a  multitude  of  examples  to  show 
you,  that  the  expressions  of  my  sermons  are  not  always  as 
definite  and  excellent,  nor  as  easy,  as  they  ought  to  be ;  and 
that  they  might  often  have  been  rendered  more  agreeable 
and  harmonious.  1  should  weary  your  patience,  however, 
my  dear  friend,  as  well  as  that  of  my  readers,  if  I  should 
do  so.  If  you  wish  to  see  a  very  imperfect  passage,  you 
may  consult  the  first  sub-division  of  the  first  part  of  the 

*  [We  have  the  same  difficulty  to  contend  with  in  the  English  language,  as 
every  writer  knows  from  experience  j  but  it  is  greatly  dimniisihed  hy  our  phi- 
losophical use  of  nouns  in  regard  to  gender,  and  the  power  we  have  of  fre- 
quently conferring  upon  neutral  objects  an  artificial  gender,  or,  in  other  words^ 
of  availing  ourselves  of  the  aid  of  personification  ;  bo  that,  in  many  cases,  our 
language  has  all  the  advantages  of  the  German  in  this  respect,  without  being 
embarrassed  with  its  disadvantages.] 


104  LETTER    XII. 

above  quoted  Reformation  Sermon.*  I  flatter  myself, 
indeed,  with  the  hope,  that  there  are  few  more  so.  At 
least,  I  have  not  stumbled  upon  many  as  imperfect,  myself. 
I  must  acknowledge,  however,  that  I  never  sit  down  to 
read  any  of  my  sermons  with  a  critical  eye,  without  find- 
ing single  expressions,  turns,  and  even  whole  periods, 
which  might  have  been  written  far  better,  as  you  will  read- 
ily believe.  Indeed,  I  never  arise  from  such  a  reading, 
with  any  real  satisfaction,  but  generally  with  pain,  on  re- 
flecting, that,  with  all  my  labor  and  diligence,  I  have  come 
far  short  of  satisfactorily  and  truly  representing  what  my 
mind  had  conceived,  as  my  own  feelings  required  it  should 
be ;  and  even  now,  with  all  my  experience,  1  come  far 
short  of  the  standard  of  excellence  to  which  I  wish  to  at- 
tain. 

The  venerable  Blessig  who  has  sought  in  so  kind  and 
honorable  a  manner  to  introduce  me  to  the  French  public, 
has  expressed  a  wish,  that,  out  of  m}^  numerous  sermons, 
a  selection  of  a  few  volumes  of  the  best,  might  be  made 
and  published,  as  a  kind  of  legacy  to  posterity. f  I  doubt, 
my  friend,  very  much,  whether  posterity  will  care  any 
thing  about  such  a  legacy.  And  then,  who  is  to  make  the 
selection?  and,  if  it  were  made,  as  it  would  contain  noth- 
ing new,  who  would  print  it?     Farewell. 

*  [The  author  enters  into  a  criticism  of  this  passage,  which  occupies  about 
six  pag'es,  which,  too^ether  with  several  other  criticisms,  is,  for  obvious  reasons^ 
omitted,  though  a  reference  is  made  to  every  passage.] 

t  See  a  notice  appended  to  the  French  translation  of  my  Reformation  Ser- 
mon of  1807,  published  at  Strasburg,  p.  47. 


MEMOIRS,*    &c 


PART     II. 


I.     Last  Sickness  and  Death. 

The  preceding  letters  or  confessions,  in  wliicli  Reinhard 
gives  an  account  of  his  education  for  the  sticrcd  office, 
with  various  other  particulars,  were  first  publi-hed  at  Sulz- 
bach,in  1810.  On  the  Gth  of  Sept.  1S12,  at  about  three 
o^clock  in  the  morning,  this  truly  vener:ible  man  expired. 
That  quick  and  painless  exit  which  the  wise  so  eagerly 
covet,  and,  as  the  king  of  terrors  cannot  overtake 
them  unawares,  deem  one  of  the  best  favors  of  heaven, 
that  easy  transition  of  the  soul  from  earth  to  the  hands 
of  its  Creator,  with  which  his  dearly  beloved  Heynef 
was  so  richly  blessed,  did  not  full  to  his  lot.  His  pas- 
sage to  the  tomb  was  long  and  dreary,  and  marked  with 
disease  and  pain  ;  and  death,  when  it  came,  seemed  rath- 
er to  deliver  him  from  his  bodily  anguish,  than  to  put  an 
end  to  his  existence.  That  blending  together  of  the  images 
of  life  and  death,  however,  which  every  where  crowd 
themselves  upon  us,  of  which  he  himself  has  spoken  so  in- 

*  The  following  particulars  respecting  ReinharH's  'ife,  writings.  &c.,  are 
drawn  chiefly  trom  1  6  ligei's  Delineation  of  his  Cliaracter,  Zeiclniung  von 
Reinhard,  Dresden,  1813,  but  are  interwoven  with  various  remarks  drawn  from 
other  sources. 

t  Probably,  Christian  Gottlob  Heyne,  a  celebrated  philologist,  teacher,  and 
general  scholar,  a  native  of  Chemnitz,  and  Professor  of  Eloquence  at  Gottin- 
gen,  where  he  died  of  a  fit  of  apoplexy,  July  the  14lh,  1812. 


m 


106  LAST    SICKNESS 

structlv^ely  in  one  of  his  sermons,*  produced  no*  other  ef- 
fect upon  iiim  than  to  render  him  anxious  to  distinguish 
every  moment  of  suffering  by  doing  something  useful ;  nor 
was  he,  as  has  been  publicly  asserted,  daily  and  painfully 
engaged  in  earnest  importunities  to  God  for  the  salvation 
of  his  soul,  until  nature  herself  became  exhausted.  To 
labor  in  the  extensive  sphere  of  usefulness  allotted  to  him, 
and  fulfil  the  duties  of  his  high  calling,  constituted  his  sup- 
port, bis  oil  in  the  lamp  oflile,  and  bread  of  heaven  in  the 
desert.  To  this  effect  he  often  expressed  himself  to  those 
around  him.  '  I  will  willingly  bear  every  variety  of  pain 
and  bodily  suffering,'  said  he,  '  if,  in  the  mean  time,  I  may 
only  be  permitted  to  mount  the  pulpit  and  preach  as  I 
have  hitherto  done.' 

In  general,  this  Christian  sage  exhibited  no  inclination 
to  die  magnanimously,  as  it  is  common  for  thousands  to 
do,  nor,  though  he  believed  far  more  extensive  and  con- 
soling views  burst  upon  the  departed  Christian, f  did  he 
say  any  thing  of  the  soul's  being  released  from  her  prison 
house,  the  body;  and  it  was  only  when  he  considered  his 
usefulness  at  an  end,  that  he  looked  upon  deaih  as  desira- 
ble. At  length  the  messenger  of  peace  made  his  appear- 
ance, and  kindly  beckoned  him  away.  After  his  de])arture, 
a  heavenly  smile  stood  upon  his  lips,  then,  for  the  first 
time,  silent,  which  erased  from  his  emaciated  countenance 
almost  every  appearance  of  disease  and  pain,  and  over- 
spread it  with  that  heavenly  serenity  which  had  always 
pervaded  his  breast. 

Having,  in  1803,  while  on  an  official  journey  through 
Erzgebirg,  fallen  from  his  horse,  and  broken  one  of  his 
legs,  he  was  confined  by  the  accident  to  the  house  of 
the  Superintendent  in  Chemnitz, J  for  nearly  three  months, 
and  so  intimidated,  that,  notwithstanding  the  earnest  im- 
portunities of  liis  friends,  he  would  never  afterwards 
venture  to  mount  a  saddle;  the  conseqnenre  of  which 
was,  his  deprivation  of  suitable  exercise,  and  the  aggra- 
vation of  various  diseases  to  which  he  had  for  some 
time    been  subjected.      In    1811,  an  obstinate    hemor* 

*  Predig-ten,  1804,  Tli.  II.  S.  104  ff. 

t  See  Reinhard's  Cli.  Moral,  Tti.  V.  S.  183  i. 

X  See  the  Sermons  of  IC04,  Pred.  I,  S.  2  fil 


AND    DEATH,  107 

rhoidal  complaint  had  so  far  got  the  upper  hand  of  him, 
as  to  induce  liim  to  form  the  hazardous  resolution  of  sub- 
mitting to  a  painful  and  dangerous  clururgical  operation, 
in  which  he  shared  not  only  the  well-known  skill,  but  the 
sympathy  and  constant  attention  of  Hedenus,  the  royal 
surgeon.  Every  thing  at  first  seemed  to  promise  the  hap- 
piest success,  but  soon  the  operation  was  found,  instead  of 
eradicating  the  disease,  to  have  driven  it  to  more  vital 
parts.  In  the  midst  of  the  most  excruciating  pain,  how- 
ever, he  not  only  performed  all  the  duiies  of  his  office,  but 
continued  to  preach  almost  every  Sunday,  without  inter- 
mission, until  the  end  of  the  winter  of  1812,  when  the  gout 
attacked  one  of  his  feet,  and  disqualified  liiai  for  all  public 
duties.  He  never  ascended  the  pulpit  after  the  fast 
on  the  28th  of  February  ;  though,  considering  preaching 
as  he  did,  the  very  soul  of  Protestantism,  and  the  business 
to  which  every  thing  else  should  be  made  subordinate,  it 
filled  him  with  inexpressible  sorrow.  He  did  not  remain 
inactive,  however,  for  while  he  was  afflined  with  his  lame 
foot,  he  examined  candidates  for  the  ministry  for  fourteen 
days  in  succession,  beginning  immediately  after  Easter. 
Tliis  was  tl)e  last  time  l)e  performed  this  service  ;  and  long 
will  the  youth  of  Saxony  who  were  present,  with  pleasure 
call  to  mind  the  exercises  by  whicli  he  consecrated  them  to 
the  ministry,  while  he  sought  to  enkindle  in  their  hearts  the 
flameofdevotion,  and  fill  ihem  with  those  doctrines  by  which 
the  two  worlds  are  connected  together,  listened  in  and  crit- 
icised, though  not  with  great  efforts,  their  first  attempts  at 
sermonizing,  and  attended  again,  thougli  not  wiihotjt  pain- 
ful suffering,  every  session  of  the  ecclesiastical  council 
and   chief  consistory.* 

Not  having  visited  the  Upper  Palatinate  since  1604,  he 
felt  anxious  to  see  his  beloved  native  country  once  more, 
before  iiedied.  With  the  hope  therefore  of  redhcinc;  the 
complicated  diseases  wliich  preyed  upon  him,-}-  and 
strengthening  himself  for  the  journey,  he  commnnced  the 

*  Tl<e  rea^'er  v/ill  find  much  information  respodiiig  various  customs  refer- 
red to  ill  ihis  worli.  iii  the  several  anicles  upon  Germany  jruMishcd  in  ihe  first 
volume  of  tlie  Hit  I   Repos. 

t  Among  olhrr  disorders,  he  had  long  been  troubled  wilh  acomj  lainl  of  the 
bladdt^r. 


108  LAST     SICKNESS 

use  of  ass's   milk,  it  having  been  found  very  salutary  in 
chronic  complaints.     To  avail  himself  of  this  kind  of  diet 
without  disturbnnce,  he  retired  to  Tharant,  where  he  spent 
five  weeks.     Tiiis  is  one  of  the  most  pleasant  bathing  pla- 
ces in  the  region  of  Dresden.     At  that  time,  however,  it 
presented  him  with  a  double  attraclion,  from  the  fact,  that 
it  daily  enjoyed  the  refreshing  visits  of  his  much  esteemed 
physician   and   friend,   Dr.   Kapp,    a   man,  distinguished 
alike  for  his  scientific  knowledge,  experience,  and  practi- 
cal skill,  surrounded  by  his  grand  children,  and  like  Luci- 
an's  Dernonax,  passing  from  house  to  house,  welcomed 
wherever  he    went.     The  company   and   conversation   of 
this  engaging  man,  furnished  Reinhard  with  an   agreeable 
compensation  for  his   constrained   inactivity,  which,  of  all 
the  afflictions  God  had  laid  upon  him,  he   found  the  most 
painful  to  bear.     The  summer,  however,  proved  rainy  and 
unpleasant,  and  did   not   permit  Reinhard  often   to   avail 
himself  of  the  bath.     The  only  effect  of  his  dieting,  was 
to  drive  his   complaint  to  his  lungs,  which  had  hitherto  re- 
mained   unaffected.     A    consumptive    cou^h    succeeded, 
which  deprived  him  of  all  sound  repose,  or  if  he  ever  slept 
quietly,  seemed  to  render  it  the  means   of  aggravating  all 
the  syuif)toms  of  his  complaint.     His  body  gradually  con- 
sumed away,  and  finally  began  to  break  down  altogether. 
The  oldest  and  most   experienced  physicians  of  Dresden, 
connected    with    him  by  the   tenderest  ties  of  friendship, 
among  whom  that  excellent  old  man.  Dr.  Pezold  then  in 
his  fiftieth  year,  the  royal  physician  and  aulic   councillor 
Kreisig,  and  the  sm-geon   Hedenus,  should   be  particular- 
ly mentioned,  having   all  been   consulted,  had    exhausted 
their  utmost  efibrts  to  procure  him  relief.     Reinhard  at- 
tended to  the  various   j)rescriptions,  which,  from   time  to 
time,  after  much  reflection  they  prepared  for  him,  merely 
from  a  sense  of  duty,  and  not  from  a  conviction  that  they 
were  able  to  do  him  any  good. 

With  that  sure  prophetical  presentiment  which  some 
politicians  possess,  he  always  evinced,  and  death  ofien 
seems  only  to  quicken,  he  calculated  for  his  approaching 
end.  With  deep  interest  he  thought  of  his  ordinary  course 
of  life,  his  domestic  circle,  and  the  scene  of  his  labors, 
and,  leaving  his  retirement,  hastened  to  his  garden  seat,  m 


AND    DEATH.  109 

one  of  the  nearest  suburbs  of  Dresden.  Here,  among  his 
favorite  plants,  in  tl)e  open  air,  he  derived  some  pleasure 
from  warming  himself  in  the  rays  of  the  sun,  whenever  it 
shone  forth  mild  and  pleasant;  and  as  it  fatigued  h'un  too 
much  to  walk,  he  refreshed  himself  about  noon  by  resort- 
ing to  his  green  house,  which  was  surrounded  with  herbs 
and  flowers.  On  such  occasions,  his  friends,  seeing  the 
vivacity  with  which  he  took  part  in  discussions  of  a  pubh'c 
or  private  nature,  often  felt  themselves  animated  with  new 
hopes  of  his  recovery.  It  was  natural  that  they  should 
hope  for  the  best,  but  he  always  refused  to  assent  to  their 
opinion,  and  replied  by  shaking  his  head  and  appealing  to 
appearances. 

But  however  great  the  exhaustion  of  the  sufferer  might 
be,  accustomed  as  he  always  had  been,  to  struggle  for  the 
victory  over  himself,  he  did  not  willingly  give  himself  up 
to  it  or  long  remain  inactive,  though  it  was  only  at  broken 
intervals  that  the  mind  was  able  to  obtain  the  victory  over 
the  body.  He  still  continued  to  rise  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, though  an  hour  later  than  formerly,  as  it  was  not  until 
towards  morning  that  he  could  obtain  sound  repose, — 
dressed  himself,  and  immediately  resorted  to  his  delight- 
ful tasks.  It  was  not  until  the  last  fortnight  of  his  life,  that 
he  would  so  far  yield  to  the  importunities  of  the  h'iends 
around  him,  as  to  continue  sitting  in  an  easy  posture  in  his 
night  dress,  on  the  sofa.  To  lie  on  the  bed  in  the  day 
time,  was  a  thing  to  which  he  refused  to  assent,  to  the  very 
last ;  so  great  was  the  control  of  his  mind  over  a  body 
which  had  almost  refused  to  serve.  On  the  meeting  of 
the  diet  in  1811,  the  magnanimous  classes  of  the  kingdom 
had  granted  an  extraordinary  contribution  for  the  institu- 
tion at  St.  Afra.  A  new  building  had  been  commenced 
in  that  place,  and  a  plan  of  instruction  drawn  up,  to  the 
perfection  of  which  Reinhard  was  desired  to  contribute  by 
his  remarks,  which  he  accordingly  did,  notwithstanding  his 
weakness,  and  aided  in  various  other  ways,  in  which  he 
proved  to  this  alma  mater  of  a  Gellert  and  Lessing,  what 
he  had  previously,  to  that  at  Pforie,  a  paternal  counseller 
and  friend.*     But  a  few  days  before  his  death,  he  drew 

*  The  building  was  consecrateH  on  tlie  17lh  of  Nov.  and  devoted  to  the  sol- 
emnization of  Reinhard's  death  on  llie  17th  of  Dec.  1812. 

10 


110  LAST    SICKNESS 

up  in  his  own  hand  writing,  a  prayer  to  be  read  in  the 
evangelical  Court  Church  on  the  day  of  the  consecration 
of  this  btiilding,  which  was  fixed  for  the  13ih  of  Septem- 
ber. In  this  and  similar  ways,  he  passed  the  time  of  his 
sickness,  always  contending  with  his  complaint  and  en- 
deavoring to  get  the  victory  over  himself.  Only  two 
days  before  his  death,  he  wrote  a  letter  to  a  friend  at  Wit- 
temberg,  and  corrected  a  proof  sheet  to  the  fifth  part  of 
his  JMoral.  One  of  the  last  works  he  read  through  with 
attention,  of  which  aUo  he  expressed  his  approbation,  was 
Heeren's  Jdeen.  At  this  lime  also  he  was  constantly  en- 
gaged in  .giving  assistance  and  advice,  either  orally  or  in 
wriiiui;-,  to  persons  around  him  and  at  a  distance,  wliile  to 
the  close  of  life,  he  continued  to  take  a  lively  interest  in 
passing  circumstances  (md  events,  which  like  his  friend 
John  Aliilier*  he  always  believed  to  be  under  the  divine 
control,  in  which  respect  he  firmly  adhered  to  those  views 
and  feelings  expressed  in  his  17th  sermon  of  1811,  Upon 
the  Government  of  God  over  the  worlds  addressed  to  those 
Christians  who  entertained  doubts  on  this  point. 

Amidst  the  pain    and    weakness  of  body,  however,   to 
which,  notwithstanding   the  strength   of  his   mind,  he  was 
subjected  during  the  last  days  of  his  life,  he  had  notice  of 
several  events  calculatc^d  to  fill  him  with  joy.     From  one 
of  his  relatives  who  had  published  his  Sermons,  Theology, 
and  Confessions,  who  belonged  to  one  of  the  most  respec- 
table booksellers  in  Germany,  and  had   come  all   the  way 
from  Siilzbach  to  Dresden,   for   the  sole  purpose  of  once 
more  seeing  his   benefactor  and  friend,  he   received  infor- 
mation, that  a  work  which  had  been  sent  to  bim  during  his 
sickness  in  1811,  and  to  which  he  wrote  a  short  but  pow- 
erful preface,  had  gone  through  two  editions  the  very  first 
year  of  its  publication,  and  been    the   means  of  scattering 
many   of  the   imperishable  seeds   of  truth. f     The   most 
joyful  news  that  he  heard,  however,  was,  that  tlie  king  had 

»  See  Job.  V.  MuHcr's  WerKe.  VIII,  ?36,  2^0.  263  ;  Triefe  pn  seinen  altes- 
tcn  Kremul  in  der  Schweiz,  (Znrch,  Fuessly,  1812,)  S  2G9. 

f  Pynlio  uiid  Pliilaletlr-s,  Sulztiach,  Seidel,  1812.  It  was  written  by  the 
yciitrnble  Creli,  (Councillor  of  the  Mines,  in  GoU  A  c.,  at  the  close  o\  his  dis- 
tingui^h'<'  cfircer,  aixl  txluhits  his  views  of  he  trulh.  wliir h,  in  respect  to 
physicothi-dh'gy  aisd  leleologica!  proof",  corns[)oiid  wiih  iho:-e  of  Keiuhard, 
Moral,  1V.4U1,  V.  1G3.    li  was  |jiibliihed  at  first  wiihuut  his  name. 


AND    DEATH.  Ill 

approved  of  the  plan  of  a  university  at  Leipsic  which  had 
been  drawn  np  by  a  double  number  of  royal  cornmission- 
ers   WHO    had  been  appointed   for  this   purpose,  to  whom 
Reinhard  belonged,  and  thus  crowned   a    work  for  which 
he  had  ardently  labored.     Of  the   success  of  his   hibors, 
however,  lie  was  never  inclined    to   say  much,  nor  did  he 
seem  to  derive  pleasure  fiom  looking  at  the  past.      He  felt 
as  tlioiii;h    it    was    unbecoming  a  sower,  to  feel  |)ro(id   of 
his  harvest,  however   great   it   m'-ght   be,  since   God    had 
brouii;ht  it  forth  by    means  of  rain  and  sunshine,  from  the 
germ"  which  he  himself  had  created.     To  wish  like  a  hero, 
to  enjoy  iht^good  of  a  work  at  (he  evening  of  life,  he  con- 
sidered  as    bordering    upon    foolishness.      Oihers    might 
warm  their  hearts  in  this  way,  and  delight  themselves  with 
such  considerations,  but  he  could    not.     The  greatest  and 
happiest  efforts  he  made,  fell  far  short  of  what  he  endeav- 
ored and  felt  himself  obligated  to  perform,  even  in  writing 
his  sermons;  and  hence,  he  was  often  filled  with  the  most 
unfeigned  astonishment  at  the  frequent  and  flcittering  proofs 
which  he  received  from  the  reniotest  parts,  of  the  good  he 
had  been  the  means  of  effecting. 

Very  torching  and  interesting  were  the  remarks  which 
he  made,  from  time  to  time,  to  his  friends,  when  they  in- 
dulged themselves  in  expressing  their  good  wishes,  and 
sought  to  show,  that  his  immediate  usefulness  could  not  then 
be  abo'Jt  to  close.  They  stiikin^ly  exhibited  his  humility, 
and  entire  dissatisfaction  with  himself,  not  withstanding  the 
internal  purity  of  his  moral  character,  the  motives  by  which 
he  had  ever  been  actuated,  and  the  strenuous  efforts  he 
had  made  to  accomplish  all  the  good  in  his  power.  "  God 
is  confined  to  no  particular  i-nstrum.ent,"  was  his  reply. 
«'  If  he  does  not  choose  to  employ  me,  he  is  able  to  find 
another.  He  is  too  perfect  in  wisdom,  to  suffer  his  plans 
and  operations  to  depend  upon  imperfection. " 

For  some  days  his  hiccough  h^d  been  increasing  upon 
him,  and  gradually  diminishing  his  strength,  but  yei  he  did 
not  suppose  his  dissolution  to  be  so  near  as  it  was.  On 
the  alternoon  preceding  his  death,  in  complinnce  with  the 
wishes  of  his  wife,  he  was  removed  from  his  garden  seat, 
to  his  official  residence  in  the  city.  On  this  occasion  he 
left  all  his  papers  behind  him,  except  the  manuscript  to  the 


112  LAST    SICKNESS. 

fifth  part  of  his  Moral,  and,  when  carried  by  the  evangeli- 
cal Court  Church  in  which,  for  the  last  21  years,  his  belov- 
ed and  affectionate  people,  under  the  influence  of  his 
preaching,  had  assembled  in  harmonious  and  heart-felt 
union,  heard  its  well  known  clock  strike  for  the  last  time. 
In  the  evening,  he  made  no  change  Irom  the' usual  course 
of  his  life,  or  the  order  of  the  day.  He  read  with  an  un- 
broken voice,  from  the  second  |)art  of  Liclitenstein's  travels, 
and  retired  to  bed  at  his  usucil  hour.  His  rest  was  quiet, 
except  that  he  once  awoke,  unlil  after  midnight,  when  he 
found  himself  unable  to  rise.  "  Farewell,"  said  he,  imme- 
diately, "  farewell  to  you  all."  These  were  his  last  words, 
which  he  repeated  several  liines,  and,  in  a  few  moments, 
expired.  They  were  heard  from  the  Aar  to  the  Dwina,  and 
listened  to  with  deep  and  heart-felt  emotion  by  the  absent, 
and  often  will  ihey  be  repeated  with  grateful  recollections 
by  the  churches  which  he  educated  and  establislied  in  the 
truth,  and  his  brethren  in  the  ministry,  whom  he  tenderly 
loved,  always  bore  on  his  heart  before  the  throne  of  grace, 
and  prayed  for  aloud  every  evening,  unlil  God  successively 
calls  tiiem  to  take  their  silent  repose. 

As  may  be  supposed  by  any  one  who  has  read  the  9th 
letter  of  his  Confessions,  he  adhered  to  the  doctrine  of 
free  grace,  through  the  atoning  blood  of  Christ,  and,  liovv- 
ever  foolish  it  may  appear  to  the  Rationalist,  or  be  made 
a  subject  of  controversy,  derived  his  chief  support  from  it 
in  the  hour  of  death;  and  though  some  may  shrug  up  their 
shoulders,  on  reading  this,  and  affect  to  drop  a  tear  of 
compassion  over  bin),  and  others  atlenipt  to  ridicule  him, 
and  pronounce  him  a  hypocrite,  as  they  did  when  his  Re- 
formation Sermon  made  its  appearance,  breathed  forth  his 
departing  spirit  into  the  hands  of  his  Redeemer.'^  His 
death  adds  another  testimony,  if  another  were  needed,  to 
the  reality  of  the  consolation  to  be  derived,  in  exchanging 
worlds,  from  a  hope  of  free  pardon  through  Christ.  No 
sparks  of  enthusiasm  or  flights  of  a  diseased  imagination 
kindled  up  false  fires  in  his  breast,  or  illuded  the  eye  of 
reason,  nor  was  his  mind  obscured  with  the  darkness  of 
ignorance.    The  flame  of  devotion  glowed  steadily  within, 

*  Many  incorrect  accounts  have  been  published  respecting  Reinhard's  death. 
The  above  was  drawn  from  the  testimony  of  his  widow. 


AND    DEATH.  113 

and  reason  kept  watch  at  her  post.  With  an  enlightened 
eye,  he  gazed  into  the  opening  gulf  before  him,  without 
trembling  or  dismay,  and,  having  labored  on  its  brink  until 
his  summons  arrived,  he  calmly  leaped  into  it,  and  was 
seen  no  more.  How  different  ihis,  from  the  blind -folded 
exit  of  the  scoffing  sinner  !  We  cannot  dwell,  however, 
upon  the  death  of  this  good  man,  but  must  ask  the  reader's 
pardon  for  hurrying  him  back  to  take  a  more  particular 
survey  of  his  life,  writings,  and  character. 

II.     His  Youth   and  Education. 

Of  the  youth  of  Reinhard,  it  will  be  unnecessary  to  add 
much  to  what  he  has  already  told  us.  He  was  born  at 
Vohenstrauss,  in  the  Dukedom  of  Sulzbach,  March  the 
12th,  1753.  He  early  evinced  an  ardent  thirst  for  know- 
ledge, an  insatiable  desire  to  improve  himself,  and  seemed 
to  derive  his  greatest  pleasure  from  mental  occupations. 
While  the  other  children  were  spending  their  time  in  vari- 
ous sports  and  plays,  the  little  Francis,  eager  to  learn,  was 
seen,  especially  in  the  evening,  bending  over  his  book  or 
his  writing  table,  engaged  in  reading,  or  in  composing 
short  fables,  hymns,  and  essays,  some  of  which,  the  re- 
mainder of  his  relatives,  in  the  Upper  Palatinate,  may  still 
possess.  In  these  youthful  productions,  we  are  told,  he 
evinced  vivacity,  and  a  stirring  and  active  imagination, 
which,  though  laid  under  powerful  restraints  by  the  seri- 
ous and  laborious  nature  of  his  employments  in  after  life, 
could  never  be  entirely  subdued.*  Until  15  years  of  age, 
he  found  an  excellent  and  faithful  teacher  in  his  father,  a 
pious  and  worthy  clergyman  of  the  place  where  he  was 
born,  by  whom  he  was  early  made  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  the  ancient  classics,  especially  Virgil  and  Cicero,  and 
thus  enabled  to  lay  that  foundation,  upon  which  alone,  in 
modern  times,  the  fame  of  authorship,  a  ^ew  choice  and 

*  Though  Reinhard  frequently  disclaimed  all  pretensions  to  the  poetic  art, 
and  wished,  in  his  works,  to  be  considered  merely  as  a  plain  writer  of  prose, 
it  was  from  his  uller  opposition  to  every  thing^  like  prose  run  mad,  a  kind  of 
style  quite  popular  with  some  preachers,  but  against  vAiirh  he  used  to  express 
himself  in  Socraiic  irony.  He  early  wrote  some  metncal  translations  of  the 
Greek  Anthology,  by  way  of  amusement,  which  were  published  in  the  N.  T. 
Merkur.  'J'hat  he  had  a  very  susceptible  imagination  when  a  lad,  is  evident 
,/rom  what  he  himself  says,  Opusc.  Acad.  .11.  273. 

*10 


114  HIS    YOUTH 

original  works  of  the  imagination  excepted,  has  always 
been  raised.  Reinhard's  father  presents  us  with  a  worthy 
example  in  this  respect,  for  he  delighted  in  teaching  his 
children  and  devoted  all  his  leisure  to  this  business.  He 
seems  to  have  felt  a  great  attachment  for  Francis,  and  to 
have  cherished  fond  hopes  of  being  able  to  make  something 
out  of  him,  as  he  used  often  to  express  himself;  and  hav- 
ing but  little  relaxation  from  the  duties  of  his  profession} 
in  1768  he  made  arrangements  for  sending  him  to  the 
Gymnasium  Poeticum,  at  Regensburg,  where  he  himself 
had  been  educated,  soon  after  which,  he  expired. 

Reinhard  speaks  of  his  residence  at  this  place,  which 
commenced  in  the  autumn  of  the  above-named  year,  with 
considerable  particularity.  He  appears  to  have  devoted 
the  most  of  his  time  to  the  study  of  the  classics.  While 
here,  he  derived  much  benefit  from  Mr.  Augustus  Topfer, 
the  conrecior,  into  whose  class  he  first  entered,  and  whom 
he  mentions  in  very  grateful  terms.  This  man  never  came 
forward  as  an  author,  but  he  attended  most  conscientiously 
to  his  business  as  instructor,  and,  by  endeavoring  to  raise 
those  pupils  worthy  of  it,  above  the  common  level,  attach- 
ed them  firmly  to  himself,  thus  exhibiting  his  own  talents 
and  integrity  as  a  teacher ;  for  nothing  distinguishes  the 
miserable  hireling  from  the  faithful  instructor  more  readily, 
than  that  the  former  planes  all  wood  equally  bad,  while 
the  latter  cuts  a  Mercury  only  out  of  the  best.  By  pursu- 
ing such  a  course  and  bringing  forward  the  powers  of  this 
one  youth,  (whom  afterwards  when  ascending  to  the  high- 
est dignity,  he  had  the  exalted  satisfaction  of  pressing  to  his 
heart,)  and  thus  qualifying  him  for  usefulness,  Topfer  did 
more  good  to  the  world  than  he  would  have  done  by  pub- 
lishing a  hundred  programs  and  other  such  things.  To 
this  man,  Reinhard  was  in  a  great  measure  indebted  for 
the  attachment  he  felt  for  Cicero  during  life,  that  fulness 
•of  thought  for  which  he  is  so  conspicuous,  and  the  chaste- 
Dess  and  skill  he  acquired  in  writing  the  Latin  language, 
being  scarcely  equalled  in  this  respect  by  any  two  theolo- 
gians among  all  his  contemporaries  in  Germany.* 

•  This  is  perfpctlv  evident  from  his  university  programs,  by  the  collecting 
together  and  publishing  ol  which,  Politz  has  done  great  service  to  the  public, 
as  it  was  a  work  which  Reinhard  would  never  have  undertaken  himself;  though 
lie  has  since  made  some  rich  additions  to  these  programs. 


AND    EDUCATION.  115 

IReinliard  seems  also  to  have  derived  considerable  bene- 
fit from  Martini,  at  that  lime  rector,  witli  whom  lie  became 
acquainted  at  a  later  period.  He  speaks  of  him  with 
gratitude,  and  says  he  delivered  some  rich  lectures  on  the 
Socratic  mode  of  instruction,  wiiich  proved  of  great  value.* 

He  seems  to  have  derived  but  little  benefit  from  his 
other  teachers.  Their  lectures  were  long  and  tedious,  and 
came  far  short  of  satisfying  the  active  mind  of  this  youth, 
and  hence,  he  spent  tlie  most  part  of  his  four  years  and  a 
half  at  this  place,  in  unwearied  attention  to  his  own  studies. 
In  the  mean  time,  however,  he  found  patrons  and  patron- 
essesj  in  some  of  the  first  families  in  Regensburg,  which 
was  then  very  flourishing,  whose  assistance,  toged)er  with 
what  he  received  frotn  some  near  relatives  at  home,  poor 
as  he  was,  supplied  his  wants,  and  prevented  the  necessity 
of  his  wasiing  the  precious  days  of  seed-time,  in  teaching 
others  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  money ;  for  though  he 
sometimes  gave  private  instruction,  he  did  it  gratis,  and 
for  his  own  improvement. f 

Having  become  an  able  gymnasiast  and  auditor ^  in 
1773,  Reinhard  left  Regensburg,  and  entered  the  univer- 
sity at  Wittemberg.  Both  Erlangen  and  Altorf  were 
nearer,  and  each  of  them,  at  that  time,  presented  some 
peculiar  facilities  and  conveniences  for  a  residence.  '  Pro- 
fessor Grimm,  however,  one  of  Reinhard's  teachers,  and  a 
zealous  defender  of  the  Crusian  philosophy,  then  in  high 
repute,  particularly  in  the  South  of  Germany,  having  con- 
ceived a  high  regard  for  him,  gave  him  a  most  flattering 
recommendation  to  Mirus,  the  Electoral  Saxon  Secretary 
of  Legation.  This  man's  sons,  one  of  whom  still  lives  in 
Regensburg,  had  been  Reinhard's  school-fellows.  He 
was  likewise  zealously  attached  to  the  Crusian  philosophy, 
and  felt  anxious  to  have  a  youth  of  such  splendid  talents, 
enlist  under  the  same  banners  to  which  he  himself  had 
sworn  allegiance.  Accordingly,  Mirus,  who  had  studied 
theology,  and  made  himself  thoroughly  acquainted  with  all 
its  sciences,  drew  up  a  plan,  agreeably  to  which  Reinhard 
was  to  commence  his  studies  at  Wittemberg,  the  cheapest 
place,  under  the  direction  of  Dr.  Schmid,  who  was  Cru~ 

*  Opusc.  Acad.  I.  109. 

t  With  the  preceding,  compare  Tzschirner,  Briefe,  u.  s.  w,  I,  II, 


116  AND    EDUCATION. 

sius'  nephew,  and  thoroughly  acquainted  with  his  theo- 
logical and  philosophical  views,  and  complete  them  at 
Leipsic,  at  the  feet  of  the  master  himself,  to  whom  Rein- 
hard  was  early  introduced,  while  on  a  journey  tlirough 
Leipsic,  by  a  letter  from  Mirus,  and  froui  whom,  he,  at 
the  same  time,  received  paternal  counsel  and  advice.  The 
new  and  interesting:  acquaintances,  however,  which  Rein- 
hard  had  formed,  during  his  first  year's  residence  at  Wit- 
temberg,  togetlier  with  the  death  of  Crusius  in  1775,  pre- 
vented him  from  carrying  the  second  part  of  tl.is  plan  into 
execution.  He,  nevertheless,  remained  firmly  atiached 
to  the  Crusian  philosophy,  at  least,  during  the  two  first 
years  of  his  academical  career, —  a  thing,  which  was  the 
natural  result  of  the  relations  he  sustained  to  Dr.  Schmid, 
and  the  respect  he  had  for  his  profound  learning. 

Of  Reinhard's  first  and  successful  attempt  at  preaching 
in  Dietrichsdorf,    his  attention   to  the   oriental  languages,  j 

under  Dr.  Dresde,  and  his  efforts  to  supply  other  deficien- 
cies in  his  education,  while  a  student  at  the  university,  he  ' 
has  given  us  sufficient  information,  in  his  5th  and  6th  let- 
ters. The  only  circumstance,  which,  perhaps,  deserves 
to  be  particularly  mentioned,  is,  that  he  had  the  happiness 
of  attending  Schrockh's  lectures  upon  church  history,  in  a 
private  course  of  instruction;  as  they  exerted  a  powerful 
influence  upon  him."^'  To  them,  indeed,  and  the  almost 
daily  intercourse  he  had  with  this  thoroughly  learned  and 
ingenious  man,  after  he  became  a  teacher  in  the  university, 
he  attributed  the  freedom  of  thouglit  which  he  afterwards 
acquired,  and  the  disinclination  he  felt  to  being  confined 
to  anv  particular  school.  It  was  through  the  influence  of 
this  man,  in  particular,  that  Reinhard  was  induced,  at  the 
close  of  his  preparatory  studies,  to  turn  his  attention  to  the 
business  of  instruction.  He  became  thoroughly  attached 
to  him  for  the  remainder  of  his  life,  and  afterwards  went 
twice  from  Dresden  to  the  delightful  neighborhood  of  Wit- 
lemberg,  on  purpose  to  see  him.f 

*  See  Tzschirner,  Ueber  Schrockh's  Leben  und  Schriften,  S.  XLI. 

t  Respecting  Schroclih's  aversion  to  the  Crusian  philosophy,  see  Ni.tzsch, 
XJeber  Schroclch's  Studienwesen  uud  Maximen,  S  Si.  After  Reinhard  and 
Schrockh  became  colleaoues,  they,  ahiiost  daily,  had  mutual  intercourse  with 
each  other,  reLpecling  every  new  phenomenon  in  the  literary  and  political 
■world,  generally  in  short  notes,  full  of  Attic  salt,  wrillen  from  their  studies . 


117 


III.     Reinhard  as  a  Teacher. 

In  the  year  1777,  by  means  of  an  essay  Tor  trial,  re- 
specting the  use  of  the  Se|)luagint,  in  criticising  the  He- 
brew text,  Reinhard  obtained  liberty  to  teach  in  the  uni- 
versity at  VViiteinberg.*  His  education  could  hardly  have 
been  better  than  it  "was,  to  qualify  iiim  for  this  business. 
In  addition  to  this,  Reinhard  was  born  a  teacher,  and  never 
felt  happier,  than  when  surrounded  with  his  pupils,  and 
giving  them  instruction.  He  then  considered  himself  as 
enjoying  life  in  the  highest  degree.f  The  period  which  he 
spent  in  this  employment  at  the  university,  he  aflervvards 
considered  as  the  brightest  spot  in  his  recollections.  No 
wonder,  then,  that  he  erew  with  rapidity,  and,  in  a  short 
time,  became  philosophical  and  theological  professor.  The 
applause  given  to  his  lectures  increased  from  one  half  year 
to  another,  and  was  grounded  upon  the  unbribed  feelings 
of  his  pupils.  It  was  also  well  earned,  for  the  discourses 
he  delivered,  which  were  not  drawn  from  old,  musty  books, 
were  full  of  rich  thought,  and  always  worked  over  anew 
every  lime  they  were  delivered.  That  a  man  who  re- 
ceived such  disinguished  approbation  should  meet  with 
some  opposition,  was  to  be  expected.  It  is  an  unquestion- 
able fact,  however,  that  his  discourses  produced  powerful 
effects  upon  the  youthful  mind.  Always  engaged  in  in- 
vestigating the  subjects  upon  which  he  lectured,  and  con- 
scientiously endeavoring  to  present  his  hearers  with  the 
newest  and  the  best,  and  truths  to  which  he  had  been  led 
by  the  most  strenuous  efforts  of  which  he  was  ca|)able,  it 
was  natural  that  his  lectures  shoidd  be  thronged,  and 
should  exert  a  great  influence.  The  names  of  many  are 
now  mentioned  "with  esteem  in  Germany,  both  as  iheologi- 
cal  and  philosophical  writers,  who  received  the  finishing 
part  of  their  education  under  Reinhard.     Some  of  them 

Schrocliti  never  failed  to  be  present  when  Reinhard  preachfd,  but  used  to 
come  slyly  and  cordially  to  meet  me  in  my  liiile  chamber,  as  the  latter  oRen 
related;in  after  years;  for  they  agreed  in  their  views  of  revelation  and  the 
doctrines  of  the  Bible.  See  Nilzsch  <.  27  ff.  Tzschirner,  XLI— Xl-V.  1  he 
meeting  of  these  men  took  place,  by  agreement,  at  Worliiz,  m  the  years  17J0 
and  1798. 

*  See  the  Opusc.  Academica. 

^  According  to  Martial,  VI.  70^  Non  est  viueie,  sed  docere  vita. 


118 


REINHARD 


ought  to  give  us  a  history  of  their  conversion,  for  it  was  not 
seldom,  in  this  respect,  that  a  Polemon  came  to  a  Xeno- 
crates.  The  time  which  Reinhard  spent  in  the  husiness 
of  teacliing  at  VV^ittemberg,  may  be  divided  into  two  peri- 
ods :  The  first  extending  from  1778  to  1784,  when  he 
was  engn^!;ed  in  philosopliy  and  theology ;  the  second, 
from  1784  to  1792,  wiien  he  was  ensj;aaed  in  theolo2:\  and 
nonnietics,  and,  as  provost,  togetiier  with  his  theological 
colltiagues,  was  obliged,  according  to  rule,  to  preach  every 
Sunday  and  festival  in  the  University  Church. 

Of  the  sacred  attention  he  paid  during  this  period  of  his 
life  to  all  the  duties  of  his  office ;  the  doubts  and  struggles 
through  which  he  had  to  pass,  before  he  could  brirg  his 
mind  to  firm  and  saiisfactory  results  in  philosophy  ;  and 
finally,  of  his  conscientiousness  as  a  iheoloirian,  to  found 
every  thing  upon  the  Bible,  the  salutary  influence  of  which 
he  daily  felt  in  his  own  heart,  he  has  given  us  ample  infor- 
maiion  in  his  Confessions. 

When  Reinhard  commenced  his  career  as  a  teacher  in 
the  university  at  Wittemberg,  there  were  manv  very  per- 
ceptible defects  in  the  course  of  instruction  there  pursued. 
Hiiler,  fiom  the  school  of  the  great  Berger,  in  his  prime 
justly  and  tridy  esteemed  as  a  lecturer  in  philology  and 
philosophy,  had  not  in  the  former,  as  }et  gone  far  beyond 
the  Rarernationen  Zum  Tacitus^  nor  in  (he  latter,  far  be- 
yond Wolf  and  Baumeister.  Reinhard  immediately  set 
about  remedying  these  defects,  and  his  lectures  in  both  de- 
partments, at  once  recommended  themselves  by  (heir 
charming  clearness  and  thorf)ugh  and  extensive  invesiiga- 
tions.  Of  the  lectures  which  he  delivered  at  a  very  early 
period,  the  philological  upon  some  of  Plato's  dialogues, 
and  the  exegetical  upon  the  Psalms,  which  he  always 
translated  into  a  rhythmical  form,  were  looked  upon  by 
the  unanimous  consent  of  his  hearers,  as  particularly  dis- 
tinguished.*    The  volumes  which  contain    these  lectures, 

*Amoiijr  Ucinhard's  postliurnous  papers,  there  is  a  finished  manuscript 
upon  l^haeilon,  Crilon,  and  i'lato's  ke[)ublic,  tog-elher  with  a  mullidide  of 
philolog-ical  remarks  upon  Horace,  Tnciius,  &lc.  extracted  from  his  earlier 
lectures;  nlso  a  complete  commentary  upon  Genesis,  upon  Isaiah  and  tlie 
Psalms,  all  in  the  l^alin  language,  and  seemingly  prepared  for  the  press. 
Each  Psalm  is  accompanied  with  an  introduction,  and  translated,  in  an  excel- 
lent rhythmical  form,  inio  the  (ierman  language,  the  words  having  been  se- 
iected  with  the  grea'est  propriety  and  taste,  and  the  whole  work  having  been 
carefu'ly  revised  'I'his  revised  translat'ion  was  published  in  1813,  by  Hack- 
■cr,  m  the  Jubilate-messe. 


AS    A    TEACHER.  i  119 

worked  out  into  a  very  perfect  slate,  are   still  to  be   found 
among  Reinliard's  literary  remains.     His  lectures  howev- 
er  upon    particular   branches  of  phil()S0])hy,  which   were 
divided  into   difFt.M'ent   courses,  were  attended   by  far   the 
greatest  number  of  hearers,  and   their  results  were  soon 
made  known  in   a   variety  of  publications.     In  these  lec- 
tures, he  always  professed   to  be   an   Eclectic.     He  was 
often  urged  to   publish  them,   at  least   to   the  extent  of  a 
small  manual,  but  as  he  was  constantly  adding  to  his  infor- 
mation and   changing  them,  he  could  not  be  persuaded  to 
do  so,  will)  the  exception  of  a  few  outlines  for  the  accom- 
modation of  his  pupils.*     To  each  position  he  added  the 
literaluie  of  it,  in  doing  which   he   evinced   deep  learning 
and   acute  judgment.     He  was  always   most  interesting 
when  he  treated  of  psychology. 

Reinhnrd,    in   the  progress  of  his  investigations,  passed 
from  the  strictest  Crusian  philosophy  to  that  of  Plato  and 
the  old   academy,  and   thence,   to   that   of  Leibnitz  and 
Wolf,  between  whose  systems  he  remained  for  a  long  time 
in  a  state  of  ptue  skepticism.     As  he  advanced,  however, 
his  views  continually  enlarged,  until  he  became  so  intimate 
with  criiical  philosophy,  which  then  comprehended  every 
thing,  that,  shortly  before  he  went  to  Dresden,  Ire  wrote  a 
lecture  upon  it,  entitled  :  An   examination   of  the  peculi- 
arities and  iTiost  noted   results   of  the   Kantian  philosophy, 
the  entire  manuscript  of  which   is  still  in   existence.     In 
this  examination,  he  seems  to   be   a    pure  Kantian,  treats 
this  philosophy  as  his  own,  and  does  not   allow  himself  to 
bring  forward  any  objections  to  it.     Indeed,  he  was  at  this 
time  far  less  consistent  in  his  views  of  this  philosophy  than 
afterwards,  when  he  wrote  the  celebrated   preface  to  the 
third  edition  of  his  Moral  and  had  penetrated  much  far- 
ther into  it.     It  is  true,  many  of  his  hearers,  particularly 
those  from   Reiuhold's  school  in  Jena,  were  dissatisfied 
with  this  lecture,  but  it  answered  the  grand   purpose  for 
which  he   intended   it,  which  was,  to  lead  each  one  to  in- 
vestigate for  himself.     As  no  new  phenomenon,  either  in 

•These  lee  ures  (ogelher  with  some  upon  natural  law  perfectly  finished,  art 
also  extant,  p  irily  in  ihe  Latin  and  partly  in  the  German.  The  acute  author 
of  Aenesideinus,  oneof  Reinhard's  pupils,  by  his  (Irundriss  der  pliilosophi- 
schen  VVissensrhifKni,  Wiitem.  1788—1790,  has  g^ven  us  a  very  lucid  account 
•f  his  naasler's  mode  of  philosophizing. 


120  REINHARD 


philosophy  or  theology,  escaped   him,  and   every  position 
was  submitted  to  the  most  rigid   examination,   he  did  not 
hesitate  to  piiblisli   the  results  to  which  he  arrived,  in  the 
various  productions  of  the  day  ;  and  hence,  he  became  by 
profession,  a   reviewer.     The  most  serious''^  labor  which 
he  performed  in  this  respect,  was,  to  review  one  of  Seni- 
ler's  works,  wbich  procured  for  him  the  respect  of  foreign- 
ers, and  made  hitn  feel  how  much  can  sotnetimes  be  done 
by  an  impartial   and  well  sustained  criticism.     About  this 
time,  the  two  Helmstadt  scholars,  Henke  and  Bruns,  enga- 
ged in  publishing  a  work,  known  by  the    name   of  Helm- 
stadt  Annals,  which  made   its  appearance  monthly  in  the 
Latin  language,  and  for  the  rich   matter  it  contains,  is  still 
justly  prized.     It  was  set  up  in  the  place  of  the  Ephem- 
eris,  a  work  on  single  sheets,  and  was  sustained  for  five  years, 
at  tlie  expense  of  tlie   magnanimous  Duke  of  Brunswick. 
Henke  baving  called  for  assistance  in  tbe  literary  depart- 
ment, Reinhard  enriched  it  with  a  series  of  the  most  thor- 
ough reviews,  and  continued  to  do  so,  until  the  year  1787, 
when  the  work  itself  was  brought  to  a  close.     These  re- 
views  were    confined    almost   exclusively  to   works  upon 
speculative  and  practical  philosophy,  and  seldom  extended 
to   those  which  lay  witliin  the  limits  of  theology.     Some 
of  them   are   so  thorough,  extensive,  and   so  far  exhaust 
the  subject,  that  they  might  pass  for  small   treatises.     All 
of  them   might  as  regards  worth,  have   been  collected  to- 
gether and  ()rinted   as  a  separate  volume  of  Rt^inhard's 
Opuscula  Acndemica.     Influenced   by  the  pan  Reinhard 
took  in  the  Helmstadt  Annals,  as  well  as   by  the  celebrity 
of  his  writings  and  his  talents   for  teaching,  his  fame  in 
these  respects  having  spread   all   over  Germany,  Maimer, 
the  private  councillerof  Brunswick,  recommended  him  to 
the  duke  as  a  suitable  theologian  for  the  Hehnstadt  acad- 
emy.    Accordingly,  in  the  year  1790,  he  received  a  very 
unexpected  call  to  Helmstadt,  with  a  salary  nearly  double 
of  what  he  received  at  Wittemberg,  and  other  perquisites. 
As  the  ecclesiastical  council  at  Dresden   appeared  to  be 
taking  no  very  active  measures  to  confine  him  permanently 
to  Saxony,  every  preparation  was  made  for  him  at  Helra- 

*  Any  one  who  wishes  to  see  a  list  of  the  most  distinn^uished  of  these  r»- 
-^iews,  may  consult  liouiger's  Delineation  of  Reinhard's  character.  Note  3G. 


AS    A    TEACHER.  121 

stadt,  even  to  the  Iiirlng  of  a  dwelling  house  for  liis  resi- 
dence,    li  was  not  long,  however,  before  such  active  mea- 
sures were  taken  and  pressing  invitations  sent  frotn  Dres- 
den, to   induce    him  to    remain    where    he    was,   which, 
together  with  his  strong  ait;ichtnent  to  Witiemberg,  finally 
prevailed.      He  therefore  relinquished  all  idea  of  removal, 
but  in  so  doing,  he  made  it  an  express  condition,  thai  no- 
thing should  be  said  to  him  respecting  increasing  his  salary 
or  diminishing  the  duties  ot"  his  office.     It  has  often  been 
said,  that  he  was  induced  on  this  occasion,  to  act  as  he  did, 
by  the  prospect  held  out  before  him',  of  ultimately  attain- 
ing to  the  highest  spiritu;d  rank   in  Dresden.     That  this 
assertion,  however,  is   utterly  groundless,  every  one   will 
conclude,  who  knows  with  how  m;my  struggles  and  inter- 
nal prejudices  he  had  to  contend,  before  he   could    bring 
himself  to  leave  Wittemberg,  and  the  manner  in  which  it 
has  been  refuted   by  the  noble   conference  minister,  the 
count  of  Schonbers:. 

All  the  pupils  of  Reinhard  while  at  Wittemberg,  speak' 
of  their  incomjiarable  teacher,  says  Bottiger,  with  a  kind 
of  enthusiasm.  From  some  gentlemen  who  were  inti- 
mately connected  with  him,  and  whose  information  can  be 
relied  upon,  1  have  received  the  following  account  of  his 
mode  of  teaching,  and  his  habits  of  life  at  this  tiuie.* 

Reinhard  intimately  combined  in  himself  all  those  qtial- 
ifications  which  Viiler's,  who  deserve  so  well  of  Germany 
and  the  reformation,  several  years  afterwards,  named  as 
requisites  to  constitute  a  suitable  teacher  for  a  Protestant 
univei'sity.f  His  lectures  evinced  equal  solidity  in  their 
contents  and  elocution.  He  read  lectures  four,  and  ofien 
five  hours  daily.  Each  of  them  was  made  ready  before- 
hand, and  stitched  into  a  small  pamphlet  by  itself.  Every 
hour  of  lecturing  was  nevertheless  preceded  by  the  most 
conscientious   preparation.     Hence,  every   thing  he  said 

*  Messrs.  Weise,  superintendent  in  Ilerzberg,  and  Kenzelmann,  arrhdeacote ' 
in  Meissen  botli  of'  ihem  closely  connected  wiih    their  immorlr.l    teat  tier  for 
many  years,  and   his  intimate  Irieuds  to  the  close  ol  his  life,  should  be  htere 
named  by  nae,  adds  Bo.ti^er,  in  very  grateful  term-;. 

tCoupd'oeil  surles  IJiiiversiej  de  I'  Allema^ne  protestante,  p.  88.    This' 
passage  in  wliich  ihese  qualities  are  named,  may  \>c  seen,  by  consultinsf  Bot- 
tiger, iVoift  33.    Ha  niusi  i)e  moral,  learned,  eloquenl,  acquainted  with  humaa 
nature,  apt  lo  teach,  celebrated  as  a  writer,  «fec. 

11 


122  REINHARD 

was  new,  and  as  he  said  it,  exciting  and  attractive.  He 
was  guided  by  genera!  positions,  which  were  ofien  givcQ 
out  and  written  down  in  the  first  place.  In  lecturing,  he 
went  no  faster  than  his  audience  could  hear  and  write 
down  what  he  said,  without  haste.  His  slowness,  however, 
in  this  respect,  did  not  injure  tl)e  agreeableness  of  his  elo- 
cution. His  utterance  of  itself,  and  his  general  mode  of 
address  were  very  interesting.  In  addition  to  this,  he  had 
a  large  fund  of  anecdotes,  refutations,  illustrations,  and 
witty  remarks,  with  wliich  he  knew  how  to  enliven  his 
discourse  ;  so  that  the  most  part  of  his  audience  preferred 
listening  to  him  with  the  most  fixed  attention,  and  left, 
as  they  should  do,  the  most  important  parts  of  the  lecture 
to  be  written  down  from  memory  after  tliey  had  retired 
to  their  rooms,  this  being  the  only  beneficial  method  that 
can  be  pursued,  though  it  requiies  the  hearers  to  have 
formed  a  previous  acquaintance  with  the  subject.  The 
copies  which  the  students  look  of  his  lectures  were  multi- 
plied for  purposes  of  gain  and  sent  into  different  parts  of 
the  country,  as  was  afterwards  done  with  his  sermons. 

His  lectures  were   dignified,    but  filled  with  doubt  and 
Socratic  irony.     His  object,  in  all  cases,  was,  to  produce 
conviction  by  means  of  the  truth,  and  excite  persons  to  ex- 
amine for  themselves,  and  engage  in  private  study.    Pray- 
ing after  others,  and  blindly  swearing  to  forms,  was  some- 
thing he  could   never  endure,   and   which  he  embraced 
every  occasion  to  correct.     Seriousness  and  jesting  sat  at 
the  same  moment  upon  his  lips.     Of  course,  he  was  inter- 
esting, and  needed  none  of  those  little  arts  for  filling  up  liis 
lecture  room  to  which  many  a  modern  Hippias  is  obliged 
to  resort,  for  the  purpose  of  attracting  the  rustling  multi- 
tude.    His  lectures  were  never  injured  by  the  feints  of  po- 
lemics or  half-yearly  excursions  after  wit,  nor  the  bribed 
approbation  or  extravagant  praise  of  the  worthless.     He 
was  always  mentioned  with  respect  by  the  learned,  who 
had  heard  him,  and  been  animated  by  him.     In  his  refuta- 
tions, he  could  inflict  the  sting  of  ridicule,  though,  in  so 
doing,  he  always  aimed  at  the  thing,  not  the  person.     Of. 
his  colleagues  in  Wittemberg  he  never  made  mention,  ex- 
cept when  he  had  occasion  to  do  so  by  way  of  commenda- 
tion.    His  lectures  were  always  delivered  gratis.     He  put 


AS    A    TEACHER. 


123 


them  lip,  indeed,  once  in  six  months,  for  the  sake  of  com- 
plying with  the  law,  at  the  small  price  of  three  dollars  ; 
but  the  payers,  as  he  once  pleasantly  remarked,  were  like 
the  little  streams  that  flow  out  of  tlie  Nile.  He  never  call- 
ed upon  the  rich  for  any  thing,  and  never  would  receive 
any  thing  from  the  poor.  He  conducted  in  the  same  way, 
when  l)e  was  suhject  to  painful  want.  Whenever  he 
could  be,  he  was  a  eenuine  Secratic.  To  this  character, 
however,  he  added  the  habit  of  close  and  intimate  inter- 
course with  the  most  susceptible  of  his  pupils.  To  make 
a  proper  selection  of  them,  an  examination  of  minds  was 
necessary,  and  one,  too,  of  which  the  mere  reading  pro- 
fessor is  totally  incapable.  As  the  surest  means  of  effect- 
ino-  this,  he  instituted  appropriate  discussions,  and,  in  after 
yelirs,  homiletical  exercises,  both  of  which  he  regulated, 
and  animated  with  his  presence.  Not  to  give  some  ac- 
count of  these,  wo(dd  be  to  rob  Reinhard  of  the  freshest 
sprig  of  laurel  he  ever  wore. 

Twice  every  week,  a  select  number  of  his  hearers  as- 
sembled together  for  the  purpose  of  disputing  and  inter- 
preting under  him,  which  exercises  were  regularly  alter- 
nated. The  members  of  the  association  were  24  in 
number,  12  of  whom  were  called  ordinary,  and  12  extra- 
ordinary, and,  whenever  a  vacancy  occurred,  it  was  sup- 
plied by  an  election.  In  interpreting,  a  passage  of  some 
Greek,  Latin,  or  sacred  writer,  was  explained  by  a  mem- 
ber of  one  of  the  two  classes.  The  ordinaries  usually  had 
the  business  of  criticising,  opposing,  and  imernreiing ;  the 
exiraordinaries  only  that  of  opposing  and  interpreting. 
Reinhard  always  distributed  the  parts,  though  he  prelered 
to  leave  the  choice  of  the  author  to  be  interpreted,  to  the 
members  themselves.  Thus,  at  one  time,  Plato's  Crilon 
and  Alcibiades,  at  another,  the  Gospel  of  John,  and  at  a 
third,  Virgil's  Georgics  and  Seneca's  epistles,  were  select- 
ed. The  master  had  acquired  such  authority,  that  none, 
how  much  soever  they  trembled  in  anticipation  of  his  opin- 
ion, presumed  to  be  unfaithful  so  far  even  as  to  come  late. 
Those  who  were  destitute  of  courage  in  this  respect,  felt 
the  reproaches  of  conscience,  or  dreaded  the  wit  with 
which  he  usually  lashed  pride  and  youthful  arrogance, 
chose  rather  to  withdraw  themselves  entirely.     When  the 


124  REINHARD  ^ 

interpreler  had  given  a  definite  account  of  the  passage  in 
question,  and,  fronn  the  usages  of  the  language,  froni  histo- 
ry, philosophy,  and  the  wriiei  's  peculiar  mode  of  thinking, 
as  well  as  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  settled  its  proper 
meaning,  Reinhard  canie  forward  and  gave  his  ciiiicism, 
in  as  precise  terras  as  possible.  In  this  case,  he  was  al- 
ways the  advocate  of  those  who  had  been  attacked.  In  the 
end,  however,  he  brought  both  parties  to  his  own  views, 
and,  taking  back  what  he  had  said  in  defending  a  particular 
side,  reduced  every  thing  to  the  frur  rules  :  A  man  must 
think  and  explain  in  the  mind  if  his  author  ;  every  writer 
must  be  explained  by  himself;  the  philosopher  can  be  ex- 
plained, only  m  the  sense  of  his  school ;  and  a  sacred  wri- 
ter only  in  accordance  with  the  rules  of  dogmatics :  and  he 
showed  how  seldom  passages  which  a()peared  perfectly 
easy,  had  been  penetrated  into  and  fully  comprehended; 
and  how  often  single  words,  which  had  been  deemed  su- 
perfluous, had  concealed  the  deepest  sense.  W6e  lo  him 
who  presumed  to  quote  passages  from  the  author  or  any 
other  writer,  without  accuracy,  or  merely  apf^ealed  to 
foreign  teslimon}-, — who  would  seem  to  dazzle  by  his 
learning  without  thoroughness.  With  wonderful  readi- 
ness of  memory  and  quickness  of  penetration,  he  exam- 
ined the  passage  which  had  been  quoted  falsely  or  with- 
out an  object,  and  showed  its  inapf)licabiliiy,  while  he  de- 
manded the  point  to  be  proved,  and  compelled  his  pupils 
to  examine  it  as  closely  as  possible,  and  render  it  perfectly 
clear.  The  ancients,  said  he,  had  oral  statutes  and  trea- 
tises ;  the  moderns  teach ^  j^^^gf^  "^^d  heal  by  books.  Skill 
in  interpreting,  therefore,  is  indispensable  to  all  profession- 
al men.  Indeed,  law  students  often  derived  as  much  ben- 
efit from  these  exercises,  as  theologicnl ;  to  whom,  as  the 
sacred  Scriptures  are  to  be  explained  after  the  manner  of 
men,  every  thing  in  this  respect,  is  of  the  greatest  impor- 
tance. The  theme  for  discussion  was  always  selected  a 
fortnight  beforehand.  Politics,  philosophy  and  theology, 
alternated  with  history  and  philology,  in  furnishing  sub- 
jects. Of  these  subjects,  a  person  called  a  questcr,  kept 
a  regular  list  in  a  book,  which  must  still  be  extant.  A 
dissertation  written  on  it  was  criticised  on  Tuesday  or 
Wednesday,  and,  when  purified  by  their  fiery  ordeal,  was 


AS    A    TEACHER.  125 

submitted  to  the  attacks  of  opponents.     The  master's  final 
opinion  with  his  strictures  and  remarks  upon  the  character 
of  the  given  definition,  the  validity  of  the  proof,  the  cor- 
rectness of  the  language,  and  the  divisions  of  the  subject, 
was  waited  for  with  great  anxiety.     Often,  he  overturned 
the  whole  fabric  and  erected  a  new  and  far  more  excellent 
one  in  its  stead,  developing  the  most  striking  views  as  he 
went  on.     It  then  seemed  as  if  the  noon-day  sun  had  all  at 
once  burst  through  a  thick  veil  of  clouds.     The  opponent 
had  certainly  prepared  himself  as  far  as  possible,  and  many 
believed   thev  had   learned  the   art  of  maintainins;  their 
point  from  the  master  himself.     The  struggle  was  violent. 
Soon,  however,  the  most  obstinate  was  disarmed  and  com- 
pelled to  yield,  by  a  series  of  questions,  which  reduced  his 
positions  to  absurdities,  or  by  the  application  of  some  logi- 
cal rule,  such  as,  that  which  proves'too  much  proves  noth- 
ing at  all.     It  was  often  the  case^  that  a  single  remark  of 
his,  two  or  three  words  in  length,  thrown  into  a  long  series 
of  proof  drawn  up  by  the  op()onent  in  excellent  battle  ar- 
ray, entirely  destroyed  the  whole  of  it.     If  such  an  oppo- 
nent arrogantly  relied  upon  his  youthful  powers,  or  appeal- 
ed to  sacred  truths  and  venerable  names,  he  certainly  had 
hard  times,  and  in  the  end,  as  a  punishment  for  his  temer- 
ity, was  overwhelmed  by  the  master  with  biting  sarcasm. 
For  some  lime  also,  Reinhnrd  held  a  conversational  exer- 
cise once  a  fortnight,  exclusively  with  the  ordinaries.     On 
such  occasions,  he  most  familiarly  imparted  to  them  his 
views  upon  theological  subjects.     The  most  difficult  passa- 
ges of  Scripture,  such  as  Gen.  32  :  24 — 32,   1  Cor.  11  : 
10,  were  talked  about,  and  the  most  noted  and  valuable 
books  brought  from  their  hiding  places.     Before  this  insti- 
tute was  thoroughly  established,  however,  it  was  broken  up, 
by  Reinhard's  removal  to  Dresden.     A  small  monthly  tax 
v/as  also  levied  upon  each  member  of  the  above  named 
association,  out  of  which  a  little  capital  was  formed  for  de- 
fraying the  expenses  of  printed  discussions  held  from  time 
to  time,  by  way  of  trial,  under  Reinhard.     They  all  exhi- 
bit the  spirit  of  the  master.     Some  of  them  were  defended 
by  him  in  his  Opuscula.     Others,  however,  clearly  evince 
their  youthful  origin,  by  their  style.     An  irreproachable 
moral  character  was  an  indispensable  requisite  for  any  one 
*11 


126  EEINHARD 

who  would  belong;  to  this  intellectual  association  for  any 
length  of  time.  To  (his  regulation,  the  master  was  able 
inexorably  to  adhere,  in  spite  of  earnest  entreaties  and 
sounding  acquisitions.  The  more  fiery  the  head  and  ready 
the  tongue,  provided  it  was  not  guilty  of  mere  cliaitering, 
so  much  the  more  welcome  the  scholar.  Nothing  but 
learning  and  aculeness  would  pass.  The  overseer,  how- 
ever, who  knew  how  to  draw  the  reins,  as  well  as  to  in- 
dulge in  ridicule,  led  them  all  to  the  same  sacred  goal, — 
to  the  truth.  The  sparks  here  enkindled,  often  burst  out 
into  a  flame,  and  continued  to  blaze  during  life.  Those 
who  belonged  lo  this  association  of  select  persons,  even 
now,  think  of  these  genuine  academical  exercises  in  the 
old  sense  of  the  word,  with  grateful  recolleciions. 

In   the  second   period  of  Reinhard's   residence   at  the 
university,  from   1784  to  1792,  when  preaching  became 
one  of  the   sacred  duties  of  his  office,  he  felt  himself  un- 
able conscientiously,  any  longer  to  refrain  from  complying 
with  the  pressing  invitations  of  the  students,  to  enga2;e  in 
homiletical  exercises.     Accordingly,  a  little   society  was 
formed  for  this  purpose,  composed  of  16  ordinary   mem- 
bers, and  a  greater  number  of  extraordinary.     From  each 
of  the   ordinary  members   in  turn,  was  required   the  plan 
of  a  sermon,  and  a  week  after  it  was  examined,  a  sermon 
written  after  this  plan,  and  most  carefully  finished.     From 
the  extraordinary  members  was  required  nothing  but  plans 
handed  in,  agreeably  to   a  particular  order.     Sometimes 
the  ordinaries  had  to  form  plans  and  write  out  sermons 
upon  the  Gospel  texts,  at  others,  upon  the   epistolary,  and 
sometimes  propositions  were  given  out  for  occasional  ser- 
mons.    Both  the  sermons  and  the  plans  were  delivered  to 
the  president,  as  Reinhard  was  called,  two  days  before  handy 
and  on  Monday  evening,  between  five  and  six,  he  went  over 
them.     It  was  a  feast  on   such  occasions,  to  listen  to  his 
criticisms.    Often,  there  were  two  hundred  persons  present,, 
all  true  worshippers  of  Themis  and  Hygeia.     The  plans 
were  first  read  aloud  and  dissected.     The  authors  of  these 
plans  then  made  their  appearance,  and,  by  means  of  th©^ 
Socratic  art,  were  relieved  of  their  difficulties,  and  cor- 
rected, wherever  they  were  wrong  or  indefinite,     A  plan 
was  generally  returned  with  improvements,  and  often  ac- 


AS    A    TEACHER.  127 

companied  with  a  new  one.  The  objections  of  its  author, 
were  solicited  and  the  rephes  lie  gave,  carefully  weighed, 
and  fully  answered  by  the  important  and  acute  su2g':Stions 
of  the  president.  In  criiicising  the  sermons,  Keinhard 
looked  mainly  after  logical  periods,  plain  dignified  expres- 
sions, and  correct  conclusions.  As  he  passed  on,  he  often 
read  a  period  which  was  too  long  and  intricate,  before  the 
audience,  and  showed  how  impossible  it  would  be,  to  de- 
claim it  in  an  eloquent  mariner.  The  principal  rules  he 
laid  down  were  the  following  :  The  exordium  begins  with 
singles,  and  ascends  to  the  general  of  the  theme.  The 
theme  must  be  divested  of  all  obscurity,  and  made  as 
specific  as  possible,  otherwise  it  cannot  be  exhausted  or 
rendered  attractive.  The  practical  view  of  a  subject 
must  always  gain  something  by  the  theoretical.  No  posi- 
tions should  be  proved  but  doubtf;:!  ones,  or  those  which 
pre-suppose  doubts.  The  theme  must  be  wholly  contain- 
ed in  the  text,  but  not  lie  immediately  upon  the  face  of 
it,  nor  be  a  subtility.  The  parts  must  follow  after 
each  other  in  natural  order,  sustain  each  other,  and  be- 
come clearer  as  they  advance.  The  sub-divisions  must 
not  be  named  before  hand,  as  it  will  terrify  the  audience 
with  the  prospect  of  a  long  sermon.  The  conclusion 
must  be  as  elevated  and  touching,  as  possible  ;  first,  we 
must  have  light,  then  heat.  He  made  various  valuable 
reflections  also,  as  he  went  along;  as  for  instance,  he  ban- 
ished hypotheses  from  the  pulpit  and  would  never  draw  a 
proof  from  the  apocryphal  books,  this  being  opposed  to 
the  Augsburg  Confession  ;  and  hence,  no  allusion  to  any  of 
these  books,  is  to  be  found  in  his  printed  sermons.  What- 
€ver  he  said  of  a  psychological  character  was  particularly  in- 
teresting; as  for  instance,  when  he  advised  his  pupils  to 
speak  with  great  tenderness  of  the  sin  of  pleasure,  as  vo- 
luptuaries will  listen  to  heart-felt  language,  but  run  away 
from  threats.  With  this  homiletical  society,  was  connect- 
ed a  reading  establishment,  to  which  each  member  con- 
tributed a  few  pence  every  month.  Books  of  a  theologi- 
cal, philosophical,  and  historical  character,  to  the  number 
of  fifty  a  week,  having  been  selected  and  examined  by 
Reinhard,  whom  nothing  excellent  escaped  in  this  respect, 
were  thus  brought  into  circulation.     Reinhard's  pulpit  ad- 


128  REINHARD 

dresses,  however,  which  were  of  a  most  masterly  charac- 
ter and  regularly  delivered  every  Sunday  and  festival,  in 
the  University  Church,  while  he  was  provost,  crowned  his 
labors.  On  these  occasions,  he  practically  exhibited  those 
precepts  which  he  had  taught  with  such  clearness  theoret- 
ically in  his  preparatory  exercises,  liis  sermons  had 
been  carefully  worked  out  and  committed  to  memory,  and 
his  action,  enunciation  and  entire  mode  of  address  were 
so  perfect,  as  scarcely  to  leave  any  thing  more  to  be  wish- 
ed for.  Of  course,  others  applied  Reinhard's  measure  to 
themselves  and  endeavored  to  imitate  him.*  His  sermons 
were  certainly  af)proved  of  by  those  who  professed  to  be 
scholars,  and  but  few  ever  found  fault  with  them.  They 
were  full  of  soul-animating  addresses,  individual  referen- 
ces, and  allusions,  especially  to  the  students,  who  took  no- 
tice of  the  gentlest  whispers  directed  to  them,  and  the  im- 
pression they  produced  was  so  great,  as  often  to  last  for 
one's  whole  life.  It  sometimes  seemed  as  if  an  electric 
shock  had  passed  through  the  assembly.  Especially  was 
this  the  effect  of  the  concluding  words  of  the  second  part 
of  a  sermon  printed  by  request,  wliich  he  delivered  on  the 
afternoon  of  Good  Friday  in  1778,  from  Jolin  17  :  12,  en- 
titled :  Hoiv  happy  shall  we  depart^  if  like  Jesus  we  leave 
no  one  behind  us  whom  ice  ought  to  have  pitied.  Rein- 
hard,  who  was  characterized  by  his  severity  toward  him- 
self, and  his  mildness  towards  others,  has  expressed  him- 
self much  too  severely  respecting  these  sermons.  It  is 
true,  they  are  not  adapted  to  a  country  congregation,  but 
the  reason  is  manifest,  for  they  were  prepared  for^  and  de- 
livered to^,  such  hearers  as  we  usually  find  in  a  University 
Cliurch  ;  and  such  sermons  should  be  composed  and  ap- 
plied very  differently  from  those  delivered  to  an  audience 
of  ignorant  people.  Only  eighteen  of  these  sermons  have 
as  yet  been  printed,  though  a  handsome   and  very  useful 

*  "  I  never  heard  Reinlmrd  preach  but  once,  which  was  a  g-reat  many  years 
ago.  1  well  remember,  however,  that  his  enunciation  was  perfectly  clear 
and  distinct,  thoug^h  I  thought  he  spoke  too  fast,  and  observed  some  traces  of 
a  foreig'n  dialect,  (pereg-rinilas,)  in  his  pronunciation,  especially  in  his  doubling 
some  consonants,  which  cannot  be  considered  as  a  fault,  however,  as  Germany 
has  no  Athens,  Rome  or  Paris,  to  decide  in  matters  of  tiiis  liind.  I  thought 
his  action  livelier  than  that  of  most  of  the  preachers  I  had  then  heard.  His 
gestures  were  generally  of  an  indefinite  character,  indicating  a  deep  sympathy 
m  his  discourse  rather  than  an  attempt  at  visible  representation."  Tzscli- 
irner's  Eriele,  S.  246  ff. 


\ 


AS    A    TEACHER.  129 

selection  might  be  made  out  of  them,  amply  worthy  of  the 
public. 

It  was  not  merely  as  a   preacher,  however,  thai  Rein- 
hard  stood  fortli  as  a  pattern  of  excellence.      He  was  dis- 
tinguished for  his  genuine  religions  conscientiousness,  and 
by  it,  produced  a  visible  effect  not   only  upon  his  hearers, 
but  all  with  whom  he  had  to  do.     A  few  words  from  him 
were  often   sufficient    to  quell   very    stormy  appearances. 
He  never  sacrificed  a  single  hour  to  pleasure,  wliich  Dught 
to  be   devoted  to   his   business   as  a    teacher.      He  nrver 
failed  to  preach  every  Sunday  and    festival  when  in  good 
health,   the   three   Sundays  and    festivals    after    fasts   and 
feasts,  excepted.      He  delivered  his  lectures   punctually, 
and   by  no   consideration  whatever,  could   be  induced    to 
break  in  upon  his  firmly  established  order.     First  7r,y  duty 
and  then  my  pleasure^  he  used  to  say,  as  he  exmsed  him- 
self from  accepting  invitations  to  indulge  in  relaxation,  or 
take  a  repast  with    a  stranger   at   an   unseasonable    hour. 
And  to  what  an  extent  did  he  carry  his  activity  !      VVIiea 
we  reflect,  that,  in  addition   to   the  sermons   he   carefully 
wrote  out  and  delivered,  and  the  homiletical  exerci?esand 
discussions  to  which,  he  attended,  he,   to   the  no   small  of- 
fence of  his  more  idle  colleagues,  read  four  lectures  daily  ; 
that  while  he   did   so,  he   consciertiously   attended    to  his 
other   academical  duties,  his   business  as  an  audior,   and 
the  labors  of  the   consistory,   being  then    assessor  of  the 
consistory  at  Wiitemberg  j  that  at  the  same  lime,  he  ijave 
private  instruction  to  his  wife's  son  and  others  who  dt'sired 
it,  carried  on  an   extensive  correspondence,  and  zealously 
pursued  his  own    studies; — when  we  reflect  upon  all  this, 
it  seems  almost  impossible  to  conceive,  why  his  body,  fee- 
ble as  it  was,  did  not   sink   under  the  burden.     To   what 
has  already  been  said   of  him,  shoidd  be  added  the  iimo- 
cence  and   simplicity  of  his  character.     He  took   an    es- 
pecial interest  in  poor  students.     Out  of  his  own  income, 
he  yearly  applied  not  a  small  sum   to  the   supply  of  their 
wants.     It  is  true,  that   from   constant  efforts,  the  serious 
nature  of  his  employment  and   the  effects  of  sickness,  his 
countenance  had  acquired    a   degree   of  severity  ;  yet  he 
received  all  who  requested  to   see  him,  with  sincere  affa- 
bility.    He  never  promised,  however,  what  he  could  not 


130  REINHARD 

perform,  nnd  hence,  while  at  Wittemberg,  he  had  the  uni- 
versal esteeni  of  its  inhabitants.  His  domestic  life,  also, 
was  a  pattern  of  excellence.  While  a  student,  and  after 
he  became  a  private  teacher,  he  made  the  severe  sioddess 
Peneia  his  inseparable,  liousehold  companion  ;  and  even 
after  he  began  to  lecture,  took  a  glass  of  water  for 
his  breakfast,  a  cup  of  coffee  for  his  dinner,  and  some 
warm  food  for  his  frugal  supper.  To  this  temperate 
mode  of  living,  he  faiilifully  adhered  even  after  he  was 
married.  He  labored  incessantly  until  7  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  a  little  excursion  in  his  garden  ex'cepied  ;  from 
that  time  to  eight,  read  papers,  jo-irnals,  and  amusing 
works,  or  entertained  hi'uself  with  tlie  friends  who  often 
called  upon  him  at  this  hour  and  partook  with  him  of  his 
evening's  re[>nst.  Precisely  at  10  o'clock,  they  went 
away  and  he  retii'cd  to  rest.  Thus  |)assed  his  life  while 
at  VViiiemberg.  It  was  to  the  highest  degree  regular.  In 
addition  to  all  this,  he  held  the  most  familiar  iiutrcourse 
with  the  wise  and  good  around,  and,  in  an  especial  sense, 
shared  the  hearty  sympathy  and  love  of  a  wife  tenderly 
devoted  to  him  ;  and  wlien  he  left  the  place  where  he  had 
lived  and  acted  so  much  like  an  unwearied  |)hilanthro|)ist 
and  Christian  sage,  he  was  followed  with  tears  of  grati- 
tude, reverence  and  love. 


IV.     Retnhard  at  Dresden. 

In  1792,  Reinhard  became  chief  court  preacher  at' 
Dresden, — a  station  which  he  occupied,  u'  til  death.  The 
years  of  activity  which  he  spent  in  this  ecclesiastical  sta- 
tion, one  of  the  most  iuiportant  as  it  is,  in  Saxony,  must 
be  considered  in  close  connexion  with  the  coiirse  ol  pre- 
paration  he  passed  through,  in  teaching,  preaching  and 
writing,  while  at  the  university.  Without  having  gone 
through  such  a  course,  he  would  hardly  have  become  the 
powerful,  perfect,  ever  new.  interesting  and  inexhaustible 
orator ;  the  critical  examiner  of  youths  and  those  called 
to  teach,  fill  prol'essorships  at  the  universities,  and  attend 
to  the  cure  of  souls;  the  ever  watchful,  honest,  wise,  and 
prudent  overseer  of  the  most  important  institutions  of  the 


/ 


AS    A    PREACHER,  ETC.  13| 

country  ;  and  the  finished  writer,  thorough  and  splendid 
investigaior,  constant  deviser  of  good,  and  paiernal  coun- 
sellor in  awakening,  admonishing  and  warning  tliousands 
at  home  and  abroad,  which  he  in  reality  did.  In  these 
respects,  his  university  life  must  be  considered  as  having 
laid  the  foundation  of  his  usefulness  while  at  Dresden, 
though  he  daily  grew  in  wisdom,  experience,  and  perfec- 
tion. Jn  nothing,  however,  was  he  a  more  wordiy  exam- 
ple to  his  contemporaries,  and  in  nothing  is  the  secret  of 
his  great  usefulness  more  evidently  to  be  sought,  tiian  in 
his  internal  piety.  Christian  humility,  courage  in  the  cause 
of  truth,  and  his  self-control ;  in  which  respects,  he  un- 
derwent do  change  in  the  several  stations  to  which  he  was 
called,  but  that  of  regular  progression.  I  cannot  here  en- 
ter into  a  detailed  examination  of  all  his  excellencies  in 
these  respects,  says  Botiiger,  nor  think  of  developing  them 
as  a  biographer  should  do.  A  few  passing  remarks  must 
suffice 

One  of  the  most  important  duties  connected  with  the 
station  of  ecclesiastical  councillor,  is,  to  hold  examinations 
in  the  chief  consistory  for  licensing  young  men  to  preach 
the  Gospel.  Jn  performing  these  duties,  therefore,  Rein- 
hard  reaped  great  benefit  from  the  acadenncal  exercises 
to  which  he  had  attended  in  homiletics  and  polen)ics, 
while  at  the  university.  These  examinations  were  usucilly 
held  twice  a  year,  and  always  in  the  Latin  language.  On 
such  occasions,  very  vivid  discussions  took  place  between 
Reinhard  and  the  superintendents,  and  the  room,  as  might 
be  expected,  was  thronged  with  persons  who  admired  his 
conversational  eloquence,  and  his  skill  in  developing 
thought,  even  though  they  disapproved  of  the  vivacity  with 
which  the  examination  i'self  was  conducted  and  the  learn- 
ing displayed.*  Having  for  sixteen  years,  as  professor 
and  president,  directed  discussions  with  a  spirit  of  vivacity 
and  love,  and  accustomed  himself  to  dialectical  forms,  he 
could  not  easily  refrain  from  using  them,  whenever  duty 
and  office  presented  an  occasion.  The  lively  manner  in 
which  Reinhard  conducted  these  consistorial  exercises, 
certainly  did  not  spring  from  any  trifling  effort  to  please 

*  Reinhard  was  often  complained  of,  in  these  respects.    See  Tzscbirner** 
Rede  bei  Reiiihaid's  Gedachiuissfeier,  in  Leipzig,  S.  34. 


132  REIN  HARD 

the  listening  tnultlfude,  or  a  want  of  self-control.  It  was 
the  natural  result  of  his  clear  and  quick  penetration,  and 
the  habits  he  had  acquired,  while  at  Witienriberg.  His 
only  object,  during  the  short  time  allotted  hiu)  for  these 
exercises,  was,  to  try  the  mind  in  those  things  in  which, 
formulas  committed  to  metnory,  can  be  of  no  use.  Hence, 
he  inquired  less  after  the  opinions  of  candidates,  than  their 
objections.  These,  he  sometimes  apparently  made  his 
own  ;  while  he  frequently  supposed  doubtful  cases  in  the 
question,  and  thus  sought,  not  to  show  his  own  superiority, 
but  to  give  his  opponents  an  opportunity  to  show  them- 
selves ;  and  happy  he  was,  when  he  found  them  on  the 
right  side.  As  his  conversation  assumed  a  very  definite 
and  logical  character,  every  skilful  man  readily  perceived 
what  he  was  about,  and  rejoiced  at  his  mode  of  proceed- 
ing. None  but  the  ignorant  trembled  before  him  or 
complained  of  his  want  of  forbearance,  as  those  who  can 
hardly  sustain  an  examination,  are  accustomed  to  do. 
Happy  the  land  which  has  such  spiritual  directors  and 
guardians  of  the  ministry,  as  a  Reinhard  and  a  Tiitmann, 
both  of  whom  were  prej)ared  for  the  stations  they  occupi- 
ed, not  only  by  deep  piety,  but  the  previous  course  of 
studies  through  which  they  had  gone,  at  the  university. 

And  how  necessary  to   qualify   Reinhard   for  this  very 
station,  was  the  classical  education  which  he  had  receiv- 
ed in  the  ancient  languages  !     In  the   excellent   and  well 
regulated    high    schools  of  Saxony,  the  Latin   had   early- 
been  cultivated  to  a  very  great  degree  of  perfection.     At 
the   Saxon    universities,  no  one  can  distinguish  himself  to 
any  considerable  degree,  who  is  unable  to  read  and  write 
this  language  with  ease  and  elegance.     Of  course,  a  chief 
court  preacher  in  Saxony,  whose  business  it  is,  to  super- 
intend all  these  institutions  and  their  examinations,  must^  if 
he  is  what  he  ought  to  be,  be  a  perfect  and  thorough  critic 
in  this  respect.     It  was   a  matter  of  duty,  therefore,  and 
not  merely  of  ornament,  that  Reinhard  should  be  able  to 
express  himself  with  as  much   beauty  and  fluency  in   this 
learned  language,  as  in  the   German.     The   Greek,  how- 
ever, was  his  favorite.     He  did  not  suffer  a  single  year  to 
pass  away  without  reading  some  books  of  the   Odyssey, 
which,  as  regards  practicalness,  he  considered  su|)erior  to 


AS    A    PREACHER,    ETC.  133 

the  Iliad,  and  some  of  Demosthenes'  orations  and 
Plato's  dialogues,  or  one  of  the  Greek  moralists,  which 
he  called  his  preacher's  Magazine.  He  preferred  Po- 
lybius,  however,  above  all  others.  He  attended  closely 
to  the  oriental  languages  of  the  Bible,  had  made  con- 
siderable progress  in  them,  and  was  by  no  means  un- 
acquainted with  the  Arabic.  The  three  principal  lan- 
guages of  Europe  he  read  with  facility.  All  these  ac- 
quisitions, however,  a  thinker  as  he  was,  he  looked  upon 
solely  as  his  instrumenis.  To  the  circle  of  the  theologi- 
cal sciences,  with  which  he  was  acquainted  in  the  most 
extensive  sense, '^  he  added  a  thorough  and  intimate  knowl- 
edge of  philosophy  and  history,  which  he  considered  as 
the  most  important  subjects  of  investigation  and  study. 
Of  the  use  which  he  made  of  the  former  in  sermonizing, 
he  has  told  us  in  his  Confessions.  Indeed,  one  has  only 
to  read  his  sermons,  not  even  his  later  ones  excepted, 
to  be  constrained  to  confess,  that  their  greatest  beauty 
consists  in  the  philosophical  truths  and  proofs  they  contain. 
He  had  extended  his  investigations  into  the  various 
branches  of  the  modern  philosophy,  the  Idealistic  as  well 
as  the  Pantheistic  and  Geological,  and  written  upon  them 
in  his  letters  in  a  strain  of  the  most  excellent  criticism, — for 
the  last  time,  in  a  letter  to  Professor  Weiss  of  Naumburg, 
upon  the  work,  Concernirg  the  living  God.  The  boun- 
daries to  which  he  always  confined  himself  in  this 
field,  are  pointed  out,  in  what  he  says  of  his  creed, 
in  his  preface  to  the  third  edition  of  his  Moral.  This, 
with  which  however  shoidd  be  connected  his  preface 
to  Crell's  Phyrrho  and  Philalethes,  is  the  only  place  in 
which  he  has  published  his  opinion  upon  this  subject ; 
though,  in  conversation,  he  often  expressed  his  aversion  to 
the  phantasms,  errors,  and  mysticisms  which  were  inces- 
santly springing  up  like  weeds,  in  this  field.  He  was  cer- 
tainly ready  to  do  justice  to  every  system  and  speculation 
which  did  not  exclude  genuine  piety,  and,  by  means  of  so- 
phistical arts,  puzzle  the  minds  of  youth.  Krug  and 
Schulz,  both  his  pupils,  and  two  of  the  most  eloquent  and 
acute  teachers  of  this  philosophy  in  Leipsic  and  Gottingen, 

*  Doederlein  pronounced   Reinhard   the  second  theologian   in   Germanj; 
Reiahard's  Dogaialik,  Preface,  ed.  Berger. 

12 


134  REINHARD 

will  confirm  this  ;  and  should  they  write  down  their  own 
views  and  experience  for  this  purpose,  would  erect  the 
most  beautiful  monument  to  the  memory  of  their  well  re- 
membered teacher  and  friend.  Psychology,  however,  was 
Reinhard's  favorite  study,  and  every  thing  which  had  the 
remotest  reference  to  it,  attracted  his  whole  attention.  He 
was  one  of  the  most  attentive  heaiers  of  Dr.  Gall's  psy- 
chological lectures  in  the  summer  of  1805,  and  bore  testi- 
mony to  the  fulness  of  his  observations  and  the  richness  of 
his  imagination,  though  he  shook  his  head  ot  some  of  his 
deductions.  To  the  author  of  a  Moral  giounded  as  Rein- 
hard's was,  and  to  a  pulpit  orator,  whose  object  was,  to 
find  something  which  would  go  home  to  his  hearers,  and 
induce  them  to  look  into  their  own  bosoms,  this  study  nat- 
urally presented  a  wide,  most  useful,  and  inviting  field. 

He  dwelt  more  in  the  history  of  all  ages  and  nations, 
than  many  professors  of  history.  In  this  case  his  memory, 
always  good  at  retaining  mailers  of  fact,  served  him  well. 
For  the  sole  purpose  of  completing  his  work  Respecting  a 
trifling  spirit,"^  he  had,  while  academical  teacher,  read  the 
whole  of  Plutarch's  Lives,  and,  with  rare  diligence,  studi- 
ed the  sources  of  ecclesiastical  history,  in  which  all  mod- 
ern history  originates.  Schrockh  was  his  teacher  in  this 
department,  and  became  his  confidential  friend.  During 
ihe  latter  oart  of  his  life,  he  formed  an  intimate  acquaint- 
ance witi)  John  von  Miiller,f  whose  unfeigned  piety  he 
considered  as  a  most  valuable  quality.  He  first  became 
acquainted  with  this  man  on  a  journey  to  Vienna,  in  1802, 
in  the  imperial  library,  where  he  found  him  like  a  lord  in 
his  own  dominions,  and  in  him  discovered  both  a  political 
and  Christian  brother.  From  that  time,  they  constantly 
maintained  a  correspondence  with  each  other.  In  the 
summer  of  1806.  Miiller  visited  Reinhard  at  Dresden  for 
the  second  time. J  and  hearing  him  preach  respecting  the 
iinprovnbilily  of  human  nature,  promised  to  take  notice  of 

*  Ueberden  K!«inigkeiis^eist  in  der  Sittenlehre,  Meisen,  1801. 

t  A  nal've  of  Schafhauseii  where  he  was  born,  January  (he  3d,  1752,  and  a 
celebrated  tiistorian.  author  of  a  great  number  of  publications.  I  f  e  firmly  ad- 
hered <o.ihe  old  ortli.xfox  system  of  faith,  and  died  May  2<)ih,  1809.  His  last 
words  were  :  Evenj  thing  'which  is,  is  from  God,  and  erenj  thing  comes  from 
God. 

I  Compare  J.  v.  Mailer's  Letters  to  his  brother,  Werke.  Th.  VII.  Si  41 
and  214. 


AS    A    PREACHER,    ETC,  135 


the  subject,  in  publishing  his  universal  history  ;  for  Rein- 
hard  asserted,  that  the  progress  of  the  human  race  was 
most  intimately  connected  with  a  belief  in  the  improvabil- 
ity  of  the  individual,  and  that  he  who  doubted  this  last  po- 
sition, could  not  be  a  Christian.  Reinhard  looked  upon 
history  as  a  third  revelation,  giving  us  an  account  of  the 
great  family  of  God.  He  would  have  made  an  admirable 
historian  had  not  other  duties  and  callings  prevented  ;  and 
he  often  complained,  both  orally  and  in  liis  letters,  that  no 
occasion  had  presented,  for  gratifying  his  wishes  in  this  re- 
spect.'^ To  be  convinced  of  this,  one  needs  only  to  glance 
at  his  work  Respecting  ChrisCs  plan,  which  has  been  the 
means  of  confirming  thousands  in  the  truth.  This  work, 
which  no  one  has  of  late  more  finely  apprehended,  or  more 
correctly  estimated,  than  the  ingenious  Dr.  Blessig  of 
Strashurg.-j-  has  long  been  looked  upon  by  judges,  not  only 
on  account  of  the  internal  strength  and  the  conclusiveness  of 
the  reasoning,  but  also  the  genuine  historical  skill  displayed 
in  the  invention  and  the  arrangement  of  the  points  of  compar- 
ison, as  well  as  the  newness  of  the  results  drawn  from  long 
established  matters  of  fart,  as  the  best  apology  for  Christian- 
ity that  modern  times  have  produced.  The  first  outlines 
of  this  work,  which  was  occasioned  by  the  same  attacks 
upon  the  founder  of  Clnistianity,  as  Eberhard's  Amyntor 
about  this  time,  were  delivered  in  an  academical  production. 
Soon  afterwards,  he  received  pressins:  invitations  from  all 
quarters,  to  extend  them  and  publish  them  for  the  sake  of 
readers  at  large  ;  the  result  of  which,  was,  the  appearance 
of  the  first  edition  of  the  Plan  in  year  1781,  the  fourth 
and  last  edition  of  which,  under  the  superintendence  of  the 
author,  was  published  in  1798.  Particularly  worthy  of 
notice  is  that  ()art  of  this  work  added  to  the  fourth  edition, 
in  which  he  shows,  that  Jesus  did  not  avail  himself  of  a  se- 
cret society  for  the  execution  of  his  plan.  The  parasiti- 
cal plan  of  a  secret,  mystical  and  magical  society,  which 

*"  Flad  I  given  myself  up  to  my  inclinations,  I  should  have  cultivated  no 
field  with  greater  pleasure,  than  that  of  history,  but  I  have  never  found  it  possi- 
ble to  do  so.  The  circumstances  and  indispensable  duties  of  my  life,  have 
always  chained  ine  down  to  other  labors."  Thus  he  expressed  liimseif  in  a 
letter  to  Prof  Ko  lie  of  Jena,  in  I'Jll.  See  Kodie,  Ueber  Reinhard's  Leben 
und  Bddung-,  S.  4k 

t  Sur  r  influence  de  la  religion  proleslante — Sermon  de  Reinhard — avec 
ane  notice  sur  Mr.  lieiuhard,  Strasbourg,  1808,  p,  50 — 55. 


136  REINHARD 

was  then  flourishing  hixiiriantly  around  the  very  throne  in 
the  Prussian  state,  and  which  pretended  that  Jesus  made 
use  of  a  secret  society  for  the  execution  of  his  plan,  in- 
duced the  author  ever  attentive  as  he  was,  to  the  signs  of 
the  times,  to  show  how  entirely  different  He  thought  upon 
the  subject,  who  came  into  the  world  to  bear  testimony  to 
the  truth.  From  this  time,  Reinhard  seized  every  oppor- 
tunity which  presented,  for  unreservedly  expressing  his 
disapprobation  of  the  obscurities  of  mystical  societies,  and, 
faithful  to  his  opinion,  publicly  censured  even  those  harm- 
less societies,  v.'hose  internal  character  he  could  not  exam- 
ine for  himself.  His  original  object  in  projecting  the  work 
respecting  Christ's  plan,  however,  was  to  give  a  popular 
and  historical  estimation  of  all  the  proofs  for  the  truth  of 
Christianity.  His  psychological  essay  Upon  miracles,  the 
first  part  of  which  alone  has  been  printed,  was  intended 
for  the  beginning  of  it ; — a  production,  which  also  shows 
that  the  autlior  had  the  parts  necessary  to  make  an  excel- 
lent historian,  and  is  worthy  of  being  drawn  from  the  ob- 
scurity in  which  it  is  concealed. 

Another  proof  of  his  talents  for  a  historian  may  be  drawn 
from  his  Reformation  Sermons.  These  sermons  were  de- 
livered on  reformation  festival  in  the  Castle,  or  Seminary 
Church  at  Wiitemberg.  Deeply  affected  at  beholding  the 
graves  of  the  reformers,  which  always  stood  in  view,  and 
even  a  drunken  and  victorious  Charles  had  commanded  to 
be  spared,^  and  glowing  with  the  spirit  of  a  Luther  and 
Bug;enhagen,  he  endeavored  in  each  succeeding  sermon 
for  these  occasions,  to  select  such  a  topic  out  of  the  mul- 
titude in  history,  as  seemed  most  important  and  calculated 
to  produce  the  greatest  effects.  Atone  time,  he  express- 
ed his  warm  and  decided  disapprobation  of  the.  frivolous 
conceitedness  with  which  some  had  endeavored  to  under- 
mine the  doctrines  of  the  reformation,  and  declared  them 
altogether  untenable  ;  at  another,  he  came  forward  and 
boldly  defended  Protestantism  against  the  objections  which 
had  been  raised  against  it,  to  bring  it  into  suspicion  ;  at  a 
third,  he  showed,  that  the  doctrine  of  free  grace  through 
Jesus  Christ,  the  very  corner  stone  of  the  reformation, 

r   *  Charles  tVie  Great.    Compare  Pfilitz,  in  Heinrich's  Handbuch  der  Sachs. 
Ceschichte,  II.  266. 


AS    A    PREACHER,    ETC.  137 

had  to  a  great  extent,  been  rejected ;  at  a  fonrth,  in  the 
spirit  of  Heeren  and  Villers,  he  gave  a  powerful  and  faith- 
ful exhibition  of  the  results  of  this  divine  work.  To  do 
this  last,  in  a  connected  and  well  arranged  manner,  and 
accompany  it  with  notes  and  excursions,  was  a  task  which 
he  often  atienipted,  and  the  work  carried  out  as  it  has 
been  by  one  well  acquainted  with  history  and  possessed  of 
a  kindred  spirit,  while  it  completely  justifies  our  belief  of 
the  author's  historical  acuteness,  will  be  productive  of  the 
happiest  results.*  To  the  same  purpose,  however,  we 
might  quote  many  others  of  his  most  successful  sermons, 
in  which  he  makes  only  gentle  allusions  to  affairs  in  which 
he  took  an  interest  of  a  kind  far  different  from  that  com- 
mon to  the  every  day  readers  of  newspapers. 

It  was  Reinhard's  extensive  knowledge  of  history  which 
enabled  him  to  execute  his  Christian  Ethics,  or  Moral, 
as  he  did, — a  work  which  established  his  immortality  as  a 
writer. f  This  work,  comprised  in  five  volumes,  which  is 
not  founded  upon  the  transcendental  speculations  of  any 
particular  school,  but  the  common  sense  of  all  the  cultivat- 
ed nations  of  ancient  and  modern  Europe,  and  hence, 
must  be  of  permanent  value,  is  full  of  the  richest  psycho- 
logical and  historical  remarks,  and  is  pervaded  by  a  spirit 
of  the  most  enlightened  and  heartfelt  Christianity.  It  is 
known  to  be  the  fruit  of  his  oft  repeated  lectures  and 
most  strenuous  and  conscientious  investigations,  while  at 
Witlemberg.  Indeed,  the  two  first  parts  of  it  were  pub- 
lished while  he  resided  there.  We  may  boldly  say,  that 
Reinhard  was  the  first  who  entered  into  a  detailed  exami- 
nation of  the  great  law  and  means  for  ennobling  our  nature, 
and  his  extensive  learning  and  deep  piety  certainly  wejj 
qualified  him  for  the  undertaking.  Christian  morality,  tho 
object  of  which  is  to  make  men  perfect  like  their  Father  in 

*  C.  R.  Seidel,  an  intellig'ent  publisher,  of  Sulzbach.     Reinhard  had  obtained 
possession  of  the  eleofaiit  Eiio:li.sh  quarto  ediiion  of  Roscoe's  Life  and  Pontifi- 
cate of  Leo  the  X,  wiili  fine  wooden  cuts,  and  given  it  a  careful  examination. 
What  Seidel  and  Reinhard  left  unfinished,  Dr.  Tzschirner  the  conlinuator  of 
Schrockh's  Church  History,  undertook  to  perform. 

f  System  der  Christlichen  Moral,  5te  Aufl.  im;  roved  and  enlarei-ed  in  five 
volumes.  This  work  is  worthy  of  all  the  commendation  which  Bd^tio-er,  from 
whom  the  followino;-  is  taken,  bestows  upon  it.  V\'e  may  question  whether  there 
is  any  thing  of  a  similar  character  equ.il  to  it  j  certainly  there  is  not  in  the  Eng- 
lish language,  into  which,  barren  as  we  are  of  sysleniaiical  ethical  works,  it 
ought  to  be  translated. 

*12 


1 38  HEINIIAED 

Heaven,  supposeshuman  nature  to  be  possessed  of  a  grand 
bias  or  inslinct  for  maturity  and  perfection.*  Accordingly, 
Reinhard's  entire^.Aiora/  is  founded  upon  nothing  in  itself 
considered,  but  upon  the  safer  principles  of  psychology 
and  the  Bible.  This  system  is  perfectly  consistent 
and  this  work  as  it  regards  practicalness,  contains 
an  inexhausiible  fund  of  information  for  the  edification 
and  improvement  of  all  Christians  and  teachers,  how 
much  so  ever  their  speculative  views  and  creeds  may 
differ  from  each  other.  It  unites  solidity  with  clear- 
ness, and  the  most  mature  reading  with  the  most  thorough 
acquaintance  with  the  human  heart.  As  out  of  regard  to 
the  first  purchasers  he  avoided  maldng  any  essential  change 
in  its  original  order,  the  latter  part  of  it  almost  necessarily 
contains  some  amended  repetitions.  As  a  whole,  howev- 
er, it  resembles  a  beautiful  palace,  for  every  part  of  the 
superstructure  of  which,  the  master  workman  made  calcu- 
lations in  the  foundation.  It  was  a  source  of  great  an- 
guish, and  the  last  with  which  Reinhard  had  to  contend, 
that  he  was  unable  to  complete  this  work.  The  two  first 
questions  to  which  Reinhard  had  to  attend,  in  Christian 
ethics,  were :  M^hat  is  man,  and  what  is  he  to  become  ? 
To  these  questions  he  attended  in  the  three  first  parts.  A 
third  now  remained  to  be  answered  :  namely,  By  what 
means  is  man  to  be  inade,  what  he  is  to  become  ?  or  in  a  word, 
to  Christian  ascetics,  of  which  Reinhard  at  first  undertook 
to  give  a  connected  representation  in  the  fourth  part.  In 
the  course  of  his  investigations,  however,  carrying  them 
out  as  he  did  to  every  point  and  drinking  in  truth  from 
every  quarter,  he  found  himself  unable  to  exhaust  the 
subject  in  one  volume.  He  was  obliged  in  the  first  place 
to  prove  what  has  so  often  been  questioned  ;  the  improva- 
biliiy  of  human  nature.  With  this  proof  he  begins  the 
fourth  part  of  his  Christian  Ethics,  in  which  he  gives  the 
most  satisfactory  results,  respecting  the  problem  with 
which  Herder  in  his  Ideen-f  has  occupied  himself  so 
much  ;  Whether  this  caii  be  proved  from  the  history  of 
the  world'?  In  this  case  also,  Reinhard  shows  how  well 
he  was  qualified  for  a  historian.     To  effect  this  improve- 

»  Chrisll.  Moral,  Th.  I.  S.  54. 

fldeen  zu  einer  Philosophic  der  Gesch.  der  Menchheit,  4  Thle.  Riga.  1792. 


AS    A    PREACHER,    ETC.  139 

ment  of  human  nature,  higher   aid  is   necessary,  as  the 
Gospel  leaches  us.     Here  then   comes  in  the  whole  doc- 
trine respecting  the  gracious  operations  of  the  Holy  Spir- 
it, which  has  so  often  been  misunderstood  by  Mystics  and 
Rationalists.     Of  course,  it  was  necessary  to  exhibit  this 
doctrine  in  a  practical  point  of  view.     To  this  succeeded 
the  doctrines  of  the  reasons  and   motives  which  lead  man 
to  aim   at    goodness,  of  which    he   gave   an  entirely  new 
representation.     Having  then  laid  down   five  fundamental 
poshions  forjudging  of  the  means  by  which  virtue  is  lobe 
attained,  he  proceeds  to  a  lucid   examination  and  illustra- 
tion of  them   separately.     Having  said   thus  much  of  the 
means  of  virtue,  the  author  then  enters  upon  what  is  call- 
ed practical   ethics,  or  ethical  gymnastics ;  that  is,  upon 
a  scientific  explanation  cf  all  the  means  and   rules  which 
have  ever  been  made  use  of  or  ever  can  be,  for  extirpat- 
ing evil  and  implanting  good,  according  to  the   precepts  of 
reason  and  the  Gospel.     Into  what  a  field  of  phenomena 
and  errors,  both  without  and  within  the  circle  of  monkish 
asceticism  and  of  mysticism,  are  we  here  introduced  !     He 
who  in  company  with  this  skilful  mystagogue,  passes  through 
the  whole  of  this  wonderful  gallery  of  efForts,  sometimes 
bordering  upon  the   most   enthusiastic  phrenzy,  at  others, 
the  most  exalted  self-denial,  will  hesitate  whether  most  to 
admire  the  extensive  reading  of  the  learned  and  pious  au- 
thor, his  practical  views,  or  his  peculiar  gift  at  representa- 
tion.    Faithful  to  the  division  of  his  subject  into  those  means 
of  virtue  which  are  somewhat  sensuovs,'^  and  those  which 
are  are  purely  spiritual,  the  author  continues  to  trace  out 
to  the  end  of  the  fourth  part,  all  the  sensuous  means  of 
virtue  with  which  the  nature  of  the  subject  presented  him. 
The  fifth  and  last  part,  of  which  only  twelve  sheets  were 
printed  at  the  time  of  his  death,  begins  with  those  5e«5u- 
owsmeansof  virtue  which  are  expressly  recommended  and 
prescribed  by  the  Christian  religion,  in  which,  as  so  many 
-  memorials  to  his  own  and  succeeding  generations,  he  gives 

*  Sensuous,  that  is  concerned  with,  or  addressed  to,  the  senses.    In   this 
sense  the  word  has  been  used  by  some  late  English  wnlers  up^  ph.'osophy 
at  least  by  Coleridge,-a  use  to  which  they  are  driven  by  necessity,  the  word 
sensual,  having  nearly  lost  this  specifical  meaning,  and  being  generally  em- 
ployed to  express  what  is  carnal. 


140  KEINHARD 

the  results  of  his  views  respecting  the  use  of  the  sacred 
Scriptures,  the  public  worship  of  God,  and  the  two  sacra- 
ments of  baptism  and  the  Lord's  Supper.     He  then,  in  a 
second  division,  comes  to  the  consideration  of  the  purely 
spiritual  means  of  virtue,  which  he  has   previously  named 
(§430,)  which  are  confined  in  part  to  ourselves,  consisting 
hi  collection   of  mind,   self-examinalion,    self-observation 
and  rational  self-enjoyment;  in   pert  are  directed  to  other 
objects,  consisiing  in    pious  contemplation,  and  in  part  are 
directed  entirely  to  God,  consisting  in  the   pious  union  of 
feeling  and  prayer.     He  then  speaks  of  the  importance  of 
firmly  adhering  to  productive  principles  and  practical  rules, 
exercising  a  voluntary  self-denial,  and  maintaining  a  care- 
ful watclifulness  over  ourselves,  in  order  to  true   improve- 
ment, and   concludes  with  the  origin  of  true  improvement 
and  the  gradual  approximation  of  men  to  perfection.     Of 
course,  the  last  sheets  have  not   received  those  final  cor- 
rections, finishing   strokes,  and   clear  remarks,  which   he 
usually  gave  his  works  when  about  to  send  them  to  the 
press ;  for  he  was  interrupted  in  the  midst   of  his  labor 
by  his  call  to  a  higher  world.     From  what  has  been  said, 
we  can   easily  perceive,  what   farther    the    author's   plan 
comprehended  which  has  not  as  yet  been  carried  out  in  de- 
tail; for  he  has  left  the  second  grand  division,  which  was 
to  constitute  the  finishing  stone  of  the  whole  v^^ell  arranged 
and  noble   building,  including  moral  pedagogics  and   the 
doctrines  of  education,   almost  wholly  untouched.     This 
was  a  work  which  lay  near  Reinhard's  heart,  and  one  from 
which  he  anticipated  much  good,  and  to  its  completion  he 
looked  forward  as  to  the   goal   of  his   wishes.     He  left  it 
unfinished  indeed,  but  the  will  of  the  Lord  is  done.* 

'This  work  on  Christian  Ethics,'  says  Bottiger,  'may 
also  be  considered  as  the  rich  and  inexhaustible  repertory 
of  his  sermons,  now  amounting  in  all,  to  about  thirty-nine 
volumes.  These  sermons  everv  where  contain  clear  and  de- 
finite  allusions  to  this  work,  by  which  means  its  use  for  min- 
isters is  greatly  facilitated.  They  constitute  one  of  the  most 

*  What  Rei#iaid  left  imprinted  of  tlie  manuscript  to  the  fifth  part  of  his 
Moral,  has  since  been  published  word  for  word  as  he  left  it,  under  the  inspec- 
tion of  P.O.  W.  Graf  von  Hohenthal,  (who  married  Reinhard's  widow  in 
1815,)  and  furnished  with  the  requisite  indexes  by  C.  Fr.  Bartzsch  of  Pima. 


AS    A    PREACHER,    ETC. 


141 


splendid  memorials  we  can  have,  of  this  great  man.  They 
are  adapted  to  the    wants  of  our    German  churches,  are 
rich  in  thought,  ahound  in  the  exposition  of  errors,  and  in 
genuine  explanations  of  the  Bible,  and  to   every   believer  . 
in  revelation  capable  of  reading  them,  are  invaluable  as  a 
means  of  edification,  and  will  doubtless  exert  grent  influ- 
ence in  improving  the  human   race.     Indeed,  thf^    may 
be  considered  as  a  safe  guide  to  almost  every  step  of  that 
spiritual  ladder  which  connects  earth  with  heaven,  and  as 
long  as  the  German  language  endures,  will  be  read,  quot- 
ed and  admired,  for  their  simplicity,  elegant  diction,  clear- 
ness and  fulness  of  thought  and  overflowing  piety.     They 
are  admirable  specimens  of  invention,  easy  and  natural  de- 
velopment of  thought  from  a  given  text,  facility  and  reg- 
ular progress  in  arrangement,  and  condnuing  the  power  of 
convincing  from  one   position  to   another,    and  of  an  elo- 
quence chaste  and    symmetrical  in    all   its  parts ;  and  are 
samples  of  reasoning  and  strength   which    none   but   such 
an  ingenious  admirer  of  Cicero  and  Demosthenes  as  he 
was,  could  have  produced.     He  imitated   no  one,  but  he 
will  long  be  imitated  by  persons   who   cannot  attain  to  his 
degree  of  perfection.^     While   on   a  visit  to    one  of  the 
large  cities  of  Germany,  in  attending   the   public  worship 
of  God,  he    listened    to  one   of  his  own    sermons.     He 
smiled  at  the  incident,  but  he  always  censured  those   who 
attempted  slavishly  to  imitate    his   manner   of  preaching. 
To  those  who  wished  to  be  saved,  however,  his   sermons 
were  peculiarly  valuable  for  their  warm  devotional  spirit, 
and  their  power  to  take  hold   of  the  conscience.     The 
truths  they  contained   were  drawn  from  the   Gospel,  and 
the  manner  in  which  these  truths  were   exhibited,  and  the 
spirit  that  breathed  in  every  page,  were  such,  as  could  have 
come  from  none  but   a   man    of  Reinhard's  learning,  who 
had   attained  to   satisfying  views,  by  passing  through   the 
most  violent  struggles,  and  felt  confident,  that  what  he  ut- 
tered was  from  God.     They  are  built  upon  the  Bible,  and 

*  Of  the  invention,  arrangement,  and  composition,  of  these  sermons,  the  au- 
thor himself  has  imparted  to  us  sufficient  information  m  his  Confessions.  Va- 
rious writers  in  Saxony  and  elsewhere  have  also  g:iven  them  arigicl  examina- 
tion; among  whom  may  be  named,  Wachter,  Greiiin":,  Grafe,  Sciiotl,  Dr. 
Blessig,  and  Tzschirner.  The  last  is  very  judicious  and  discriminalmg.  See 
Briefe,  &c.S.90,ft-. 


142 


REINHARD 


as  long  as  the  Bible  endures,  they  will  be  read  as  a  source 
of  edification  and  consolation  by  all  who  si2;h  after  the 
quickening  influences  of  God's  spirit.  Many  ol'  them- 
have  been  translated  into  the  Danish,  French,  and  Dutch, 
a  few  into  the  English,  and  one  of  his  Reformation  ser- 
mons was  translated  into  the  French  by  Dr.  Ble.ssig  of 
Strasburg,  a  man  of  a  kindred  spirit,  accompanied  with 
many  precious  additions.  To  these  sermons,  the  author 
devoted  his  clearest,  brightest,  and  best  hours.  Each  of 
them  cost  him  equal  labor.' 

In  the  year  1808,  Reinhard  was  commissioned  by  the 
highest  authority,  to  select  a  new  course  of  texts  for  two 
years,  which,  united  witli  the  old  one,  should  constitute  a 
regularly  returriing  series  for  three  years,  to  be  used 
throughout  the  kingdom.  This  n-^w  course  commenced 
in  1809.  The  evangelical  Court  Church  however  was  a 
year  ahead  of  the  other  churches  in  this  respect.  For 
this  cliurch,  therefore,  Reinhard  was  commissioned  to 
make  a  new  selection  for  the  year  181 1,  in  order  that  they 
might  all  come  together  in  1812.  This  gave  Reinhard 
an  opportunity  to  preach  from  three  new  series  of  texts 
for  three  years  in  succession,  and  enabled  him  to  speak 
upon  many  subjects  which  he  would  not  otherwise  have 
done  ;  and  hence,  this  series  of  his  sermons,  is  particularly 
valuable  and  of  especial  importance.  Reinhard  was  ex- 
tremely fond  of  the  historical  texts  which  he  liad  selected 
for  the  first  year's  course,  and  preached  seventeen  ser- 
mons of  2;reat  value  upon  the  most  useful  narratives  of  the 
Acts.  The  selections  which  he  made  for  tlie  churcl)  have 
since  been  most  fully  approved  of,  and  as  they  had  long 
been  called  for  by  the  age,  cannot  in  the  strict  sense  of 
the  word,  be  considered  as  his.  He  himself  could  have 
preached  twenty  years  longer,  from  the  old  series,  as  is 
evident  from  a  book  in  which  he  has  entered  his  themes.* 

As  Reinhard  had  one  of  the  niost  difficult  of  predeces- 
sors to  surpass,  even  himself,  the  execution  of  his  sermons 
became  yearly  more  and  more  laborious.  Governed  as 
he  was  by  conscience  in  every  sermon  he  wrote,  he  failed 
not  to  select  the  best  subject  he  could  deduce  from  the 
text  in  connexion  with  the  circumstances  under  which  he 

*  Compare  Reinhard's  Moral,  §.  360.    Th.  IV.  9. 


AS    A    PREACHER,    ETC.  143 

was  to  speak,  however  disagreeable  it  might  "be  to  him. 
Those  of  his  discourses  which  were  prepared  for  particu- 
lar festivals  of  the  year,  are  the  most  distinguished.  Of 
his  reformation  sermons,  1  have  already  spoken.  The  ser- 
mons which  he  delivered  on  the  assembling  of  the  Diet, 
were  in  a  measure  consecrated  to  political  affairs,  as  well 
as  to  ecclesiastical.  The  sermons  which  he  delivered  on 
the  three  great  fasts  which  are  yearly  observed  in  Saxony, 
were  mostly  patriotic  addfesses  of  a  purely  evangelical 
character.  As  every  Simday  was  in  a  certain  sense,  de- 
voted to  fasting  and  spiritual  improvement,  he  felt  it  proper 
for  him  to  devote  these  fasts  to  admonishing  his  fellow  cit- 
izens to  attend  to  the  welfare  of  iheir  native  country  ;  it  be- 
ing impossible,  as  he  believed,  for  a  nation  to  prosper,  if 
unsustained  by  religion.  The  sermons  which  he  delivered 
on  Michaelmas  almost  always  had  a  reference  to  the  invisi- 
ble, spiritual  kingdom  of  God  ;  those  delivered  on  the 
feast  of  Mary's  Purification,  often  contained  directions  for 
the  Christian  education  of  children.  Of  all  his  sermons, 
however,  those  delivered  on  Maundy-Thursday,  at  the 
celebration^of  the  Lord's  Supper,  were  the  most  interesting, 
full  of  reviving  instruction  as  they  were,  and  expressly 
adapted  to  the  occasion.  Tt  should  also  be  added,  that 
Reinhard  devoted  great  attention  to  those  sermons  which 
he  composed  from  epistolary  texts  during  the  year  1806. 
Of  course,  numerous  as  Reinhard's  sermons  are  and  di- 
verse in  kind,  there  is  room  enough  for  skilful  hands,  to 
make  some  happy  selections  out  of  them;*  but  to  attempt, 
as  some  have  done,  to  give  us  Reinhard  in  a  nutshell,  is 
the  most  egregious  folly,  and  seems  to  come  little  short  of 
sacrilege. 

•  Such  selections  have  bef  n  attempted  in  Germany,  wilh  the  approlialion  of 
Reinhard's  friends,  especially  by  Dr.  Hacker,  the  editor  of  many  of  his  ser- 
mons, and  the  colleag-ue  next  lo  him  in  the  evangelical  Court  Church. 

Whether  the  English  reader  of  Reinhard's  sermons  will  fully  assent  to  the 
above  remarks  upon  them,  drawn  from  Botliger  is  a  mailer  of  doubt. 
They  show  at  least  the  estimation  in  which  these  sermons  are  held  l>y  evang^el- 
ica!  Christians  in  Germany.  I  have  chosen  however  to  present  the  reader 
with  Bfittiger's  opinion.  Having  done  so,  but  little  room  is  left  for  saying 
any  thing  more.  Certain  it  is,  that  Reinhard's  sermons  exhibit  rich  thought, 
ffreat  powers  of  eloquence,  and  fervent  piety.  'I'hose  which  he  delivered  in  the 
latter  part  of  his  life,  however,  surpass  those  which  he  delivered  while  at  Wil- 
temberg,  and  those  which  he  delivered  from  texts  of  his  own  selection,  or  with- 
out being  compelled  lo  rack  the  given  lesson  of  the  day  for  an  apf)ropriat« 
theme,  are  full  of  practical  wisdom,  glowing  eloquence,  and  fervienl  pietjr. 


144  REINHARD 

Reinbard  always  preached  memoriter.  To  do  so,  cost 
him  severe  labor,  in  tbe  midst  of  wbicb  he  often  smiled  at 
the  artificesof  Mnemonics,  of  wbicb  be  at  least  made  no  use, 
and  sometimes,  and  justly  too,  became  indignant  against 
those,  who,  out  of  laziness  or  self-conceit,  neither  accurately 
conceive  nor  commit  to  memory,  and  thus,  in  a  little  while, 
run  witbout  exception  into  tbe  most  striking  superficiality. 
And  indeed,  who,  when  Reinbard,  oppressed  as  he  was 
by  important  duties,  could  find  time  to  get  his  sermons  by 
heart,  will  have  the  face  to  excuse  himself  in  tins  respect, 
by  alleging  his  want  of  time  ?  It  is  wonderful,  and  yet 
true,  that  Reinbard  not  only  wrote  out  his  sermons  and 
committed  tbem  to  memory,  but  often  preached  in  this 
way  three  times  a  week,  and  was  always  perfectly  himself. 
We  can  account  Tor  his  ability  to  sustain  such  labor,  only 
by  the  fact,  tbat  amidst  his  pains,  sleepless  nigbts  and  busy 
days,  he  was  a  man  of  prayer,  and  drew  his  strength  from 
God.  He  always  spoke  with  the  glowing  fire  of  eloquence, 
even  when  oppressed  with  disease,  and  seemed  to  derive 
the  greatest  benefit  from  the  exercises  of  the  pulpit.  More 
than  half  of  his  audience,  numerous  as  it  was,  was  compos- 
ed of  persons  whom  he  had  educated  by  preaching.  In 
this  respect,  he  well  knew  the  duty  of  a  minister,  whether 
in  the  city  or  the  country  ;  and  he  always  maintained  that 
a  minister  should  attend  to  the  education  of  his  hearers, 
and  not  run  from  village  to  village.  Whenever  he  preach- 
ed, stenographers  were  employed  to  take  down  bis  ser- 
mons, and  so  faithfully  did  they  execute  their  task,  that 
their  copies  often  agreed  word  for  word  with  the  original 
as  it  was  afterwards  printed. 

Reinbard  made  bis  duties  as  court  preacher  the  first  and 
principal   object   of  his   attention  ;*  the  numerous   calls 

Most  of  the  sermons  above  named  with  special  approbation,  ma)'  be  read  with 
great  profit,  and  it  may  be  added,  that  a  selection  of  them,  if  well  translated 
into  English,  would  constitute  a  valuable  production.  Lei  the  reader,  howev- 
er, constantly  remember  the  palliating'  circumstances  under  which  ihese_  ser- 
mons were  written  and  delivered,  if  he  feels  inclined  to  complain  of  the  differ- 
ence between  them  and  some  of  our  revival  sermons. 

*  Of  his  zeal  in  this  respect,  some  estimate  can  be  formed  from  the  facts,  that, 
during  the  three  last  years  of  his  life,  his  physicians  and  friends  unanimously 
urged  him  to  preach  less  frequently,  as  his  efforts  were  wearing  him  out,  and 
that  the  ministers  of  the  conference  sent  to  him  a  request  that  he  would  spare 
himself  5  but  he  always  replied  by  alleging  his  very  title,  as  an  evidence  that 
he  was  called  to  preach. 


AS    A    MINISTER,  ETC.  146 

which  came  to  him  as  an  ecclesiastical  and  consistorial 
councillor  of  the  kingdom,  the  second  ;  the  oral  and  writ- 
ten advice  requested  by  hundreds  who  looked  to  liim  for 
direction  and  insiruction,  the  third  ;  and  his  business  as  an 
author,  as  delightful  as  either  of  the  others,  the  fourth. 
Dr.Tjttrnann  was  his  only  spiritual  colleague, — a  man  equal- 
ly honored  by  the  chmxh,  for  his  rare  learning  and  fervent 
piety.  Both,  having  unitedly  to  oversee  the  churches, 
schools,  and  universitiesof  the  country,  had  their  hands  full 
of  business,  though  they  found  able  coadjutors  and  enlight- 
ened promoters  ol  their  plans  in  the  public  ministers  and  oth- 
ers,upon  whom  the  execution  of  ecclesiastical  affairs  in  Sax- 
ony, depend.  Of  Dr.  Tiltmann  we  may  say,  so  great  was 
his  labor,  that  nothing  but  his  acquaintance  with  business 
and  firtn  attachment  to  the  performance  of  duty,  could 
have  carried  him  through  it  all. 

Saxony  has  always  been  noted  for  her  aversion  to  hasty 
measures  and  reforms,  and  hence,  often  accused  of  adher- 
ing to  the  old  system  of  things.     Whenever  the  imj)rove- 
ments  proposed,  however,  have  been  of  a  solid  charac- 
ter and  have  originated  in  conscientiousness,  wisdom    and 
integrity,  they  have  readily  been  introduced  into  the  con- 
stitutions of  the  church  and  state  with  which  people  had 
long  felt  themselves  satisfied,  but  yet  with  silent,  cautious, 
considerate  steps,  and  feelings,  which  chose  to  act  rather 
than  to  speak.     Her  movements  might  indeed   be  looked 
upon  as   slow  in  the  judgment  of  anticipating    rashness, 
but  they  closed   the   door    to    every    wicked   Epimethe- 
us,  while  they  effectually  opened  it  to  every  man   of  real 
knowledge,  judgment  and  information.     And  such  a  man 
was  Reinhard.     He  himself  had  doubted,  examined  and 
grasped,  at  every  thing  worthy  of  man.     He  tolerated,  re- 
spected, and  treasured  up,  the  thoughts  of  others.     In  a 
certain  sense,   he  honored  the  genuine   Rationalist.     H« 
treated  none  but  half  enlighteners  with  contempt.     Mer- 
chants and  money  changers  he  would  not  have  in  the  tem- 
ple of  God,  and  to  them  all  he  applied  the  words  of  th« 
angel  to  the  Church  at  Laodicea.     In  this  and  several 
other  respects,  he  took  the  first  great  reformer  at  Wittem- 
berg  for  his  pattern.     He  was  never  guilty  in  any  respect, 
of  persecuting  or  harshly  treating  those  who  thought  differ- 
13 


146  REINHARD 

enily  from  himself.  To  every  one  who  learnt  bis  own  les- 
son well,  he  showed  kindness,  while  he  left  God  to  judge 
the  heart.  Hence,  his  influence  and  audiority  in  Saxony 
are  to  be  estimated  as  much  by  what  he  prevented,  as  by 
what  he  effected  ;  for  few  have  exhibited  equal  Christian 
wisdom  and  forbeartince.  He  gave  his  support  to  Protes- 
tantism, but  he  hated  every  thing  like  polemics,  and  be- 
lieved they  always  embitter  without  ever  converting. 

It  is  true,  he  was  averse  to  all  those  attempts  at  union 
which  have  been  so  loudly  and  so  often  talked  about  of 
late  years,  but  the  reason  was,   that  he  could  see  nothing 
iu  the  signs  of  the  times  which  gave  him  any  hope  of  dis- 
covering a  genuine  henoiicum,  while  in  the  greatest    ap- 
proximations to  such  a  state,  he  perceived  only  a  rigid  in- 
difference, or  a  thoughtless  sporliveness  of  the  imagination. 
He  united  in  his  labors  with  those  Catholics  who  were  de- 
voted to  the  cause  of  truth,  wrote  a  recommendatory  pre- 
face to  Leander  Van  Ess's  translation  of  the  Bible,   and 
from  the  pulpit,  charged  his  people  to  conduct  with  Chris- 
tian   forbearance  towards  those   who   thought  differently 
from  themselves,*  and   he  enjoyed  the  high  satisfaction  of 
having  pious  Catholic  writers   and  ministers  from  a  dis- 
tance, call  to  see  him  and  hear  him  preach.     He  was  not 
ignorant  of  th6  fact,  that  his  printed  sermons  and  his  Moral 
were  called  for  as  much  by  Roman  Catholics,  as  by  his 
own  denomination,  and  that  his  works  were  read   in  the 
Ecclesiastical  Seminary  at  Vienna.     Having  always  de- 
fended a  firm  rule  of  faith  and  the  doctrines  of  the  Bible 
as  contained  in  the  symbolical  books  of  his  church,  without 
refining   upon  them   or  lowering  them   down,  he  was  of 
course,  preserved  from  difficulties,  in  which  many  honest 
Protestants,  by  giving  themselves  up  to  speculations,  have 
been  involved.     In  this  respect,  however,  this  persevering 
man,  severely  handled  as  he  had  been  in  some  critical  journ- 
als, for  a  sermon  he  preached  a  few  years  before, j  had  the 

*  See  his  sermon  upon  toleration,  Jahr^.  1807.    Th.  II.  S,  169.  ff. 

■fThis  sermon  which  has  been  repeatedly  referred  to,  and  was  translated 
into  French  hy  Dr.  Blessig,  produced  a  very  great  sensation  when  delivered, 
and  called  down  severe  censures  and  remarks  upon  its  author.  It  is  from 
Rom.  3:  23— 25,  and  is  entitled  i  Our  church  should  never  forget  that  she 
owes  her  existence  to  the  resuscitation  of  the  doctrine  of  salvation  through  the 
free  grace  of  God  in  Jesus  Christ.    See  the  Sermons  of  1800,  Th.  II.  S.  270. 


AS  A  MINISTER,    ETC.  147 

exalted  satisfaction  of  seeing,  the  erring,  and  those  giddy 
with  new  doctrines  come  back  to  a  more  solid  basis,  and  the 
periodicals  of  the  day  animated  with   a   better  spirit. 

He  expressed  his  opinion  with  undisguised  boldness  when- 
ever piety  required, or  he  thought  it  would  pruve  the  means 
of  warning  the  unreflecting  or  improving  the  wicked;  but,  in 
all  other  cases,  spoke  wiih  the  greatest  caution  and  reserve. 
Hence,  he  was  always  an  excellent  mediator  and  business- 
man, for  exercising  his  talents  in  which  respects  he  had  al- 
most daily  opportunities   in  attending  to  numerous  appeals 
made  to  him  by  able  men  connected  with  the   universities 
and  schools,  in  settling  difficuliies  and    balancing  accounts 
with  other  persons,  in  overseeing  these  institutions,  in  spe- 
cially   superintending    the  two    seminaries    in    Neustadt- 
Dresden  and  VVeissenfels  for  country  school-teachers,    in 
making  changes  in  the   liturgy,  in   giving  the  opinions  and 
plans  required  of  him   by  Protestants  in   foreign  countries 
with  reference  to  new   resjulations   and   ecclesiastical   im- 
provemenls,  and  in  maintaining  a  very  extensive  and  highly 
valuable  correspondence.     To   educate   youth   in   such  a 
manner  as  to  make  them  better  for  better  times,  and  ren- 
der them  useful  citizens,  was  one  of  the  objects  which  lay 
nearest  liis   heart ;  and   it   was  not  seldom  that  his  labors 
were  productive  of  important  effects  in  this  respect.  He  re- 
joiced   at    the    growth   of  the   seminaries  in   Saxony  for 
country  school-teachers,  and  encouraged  those,  who  either 
by  calls  or  personal   consecration,   were   actively  engaged 
in  their  service.     To   this  a   Dinter  and   a   Frisch   could 
bear    public    testimony.     The    salaries    of  many    of   the 
country  school   masters  were    silently  increased,  while   a 
remedy  was   provided  for  the  inexcusable   negligence   of 
parents  in  sending  their  children  to  school,  and  by  express 
apf^obaiion    and   sudden   promotion,  the    co-operation  of 
the  clergy   was  every  where  secured  ;  in  the  performance 
of  which  duties,  he  was  often  pained  to  discover  the  want 
of  alacrity  and  conscientiousness  with  which  many  officers 
and  magistrates  conducted.      With  respect  to  the   citizen 
schools  as  they  are  called,  in  the  larger  and  smaller  cities, 
which  were  under  very  bad  regulations,  he  used  to  express 
himselfwithout  reserve.     There  were  then  at  least  a  doz- 
en cities  in  Saxony,  whose  Lyceums   and  Latin  schools 


y' 


H8  reinhard's 

were  in  a  wretched  condition  and  needed  remodelling  af- 
ter the  well  organized  citizen  schools  of  Leipsic,  Dresden, 
and  Naumburg  ;  but  which,  owing  to  the  jealousy  with 
which  the  right  of  patronage  was  guarded,  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  loud).  He  rejoiced  greatly  on  beholding  ihe  new 
fabric  in  Zittau,  and  tl]e  improvements  made  in  female 
education  in  the  captital  and  province.  Thus  this  benev- 
olent man  continued  to  labor,  hope  and  love  ;  faithful  to 
the  sphere  assigned  to  him,  but  limited  only  by  his  oppor- 
tunities and  talents  in  his  efforts  to  do  good,  and  his  zeal  con- 
tinued w^ith  unremitting  diligence  until  death.  His  king  ac- 
knowledged his  merits  ;  for,  in  1808,  when  Reinhard  had 
received  a  very  flattering  call  from  the  Prussian  Court,  he 
wrote  to  him  declaring  in  the  most  positive  terms  the  en- 
tire satisfaction  he  felt  with  the  manner  in  which  he  had 
performed  the  duties  of  his  station.  In  short,  within  the 
boimds  of  the  most  honest  truth,  we  may  say,  that  he 
made  it  his  constant  aim  to  become  according  to  the  old 
saying  of  Simonides,  a  square  man  in  head,  feet  and  hands.* 
Hence,  he  was  a  firm  and  unchangeable  friend  ;  and  the 
case  must  have  been  severe  indeed,  which  made  him 
withdraw  from  one  with  whom  he  was  well  acquainted, 
and  whom,  as  he  supposed,  he  had  thoroughly  tried. 


V.     Reinhard's  Habits,  Character,  &;c. 

*  Reinhard,'  says  Tzschirner, '  presents  us  with  a  rare 
instance  of  glowing  eloquence,  combined  witli  deep,  ex- 
tensive learning,  and  continued  to  the  end  of  life.  The 
question,  therefore,  how  he  became  what  so  {q\v  have  be- 
come, the  powerful  orator,  while  he  was  the  lliorough 
scholar,  well  deserves  attention.  Some  suggestions  may 
be  made  by  way  of  answering  it.  Nature  had  endowed 
him  to  an  almost  equal  degree  with  the  powers  of  thought 
and  imagination,  so  that  he  was  capable  both  of  intense 
thinking  and  deep  feeling.  These  powers  were  cultivated 
by  close  and  ceaseless  application  to  the  most  improving 
studies.  His  education  was  strictly  of  a  philosophical 
tendency.     He  read  the  Bible,  history,  and  the  ancients, 

*  See  Plato's  Protagoras,  c.  72. 


CHARACTER,  ETC.  149 

and  attended  to   philosophical  theology.     He  also  applied 
himself  closely  to  poetry,  both  the  ancient  poets  and  those 
of  his  own   native  country,  and   read  them   more  or  less 
to  the  close   of  life.     While    philosophy,   therefore,  the 
mother  of  eloquence,  guided  his   investigations,  nourished 
his  powers,  and  extended  his  points  of  observation,  poetry, 
to  which  like  all  glowing  minds,  he. was  thoroughly  attach- 
ed, though  like  Plato,  he  was  wise  enough  to  relinquish  the 
poetic  laurel,  exerted  her  benign  influence  upon  him,  an- 
imated him,  and  warmed  his  heart.     It  should  also  be  re- 
collected that  Reinhard  studied  philosophy  by  profession, 
and  hence,  practically,  and  not  as  a  mere  closet-scholar. 
Besides,    he   was  always    connected   with    the    practical 
world  and  had  a  circle  of  learned  and  sympathizing  friends 
around  him.     Of  course,  he  was  thus  preserved  from  the 
gloom,  inactivity,  and  dulness,  so  peculiar  to  closet-schol- 
ars, furnished  with  freedom  of  mind,  and  made  acquaint- 
ed with  men  and  human  affairs.     All  these  things  produc- 
ed beneficial  effects  upon  upon  him,  and  served  to  develop 
his  oratorical  powers,  expand  and    enrich    his  mind,  and 
render  him  in  almost  every   respect  what  Cicero  requires 
an  orator  to  be.*     Much  of  his  celebrity  is  no  doubt  to  be 
attributed  to  the  manner  in  which  he  was  associated  with 
his   father   in    early    life,  initiated    into  the    classics,  and 
made  acquainted  with  the  choicest  specimens  of  eloquence 
in  antiquity.     It  is  true,  there  were   many  defects  in  the 
education   he  received,  both  at  home   and   abroad.     Had 
not  a  providential  circumstance  thrown   Haller's  poems  in 
his  way,  he  would  hardly  have  ever  become  master  of  his 
own  native  language.     At  the  university  too,  he  failed  to 
attend  to  some  of  the   most  necessary  studies.     All  this, 
however,  only    goes  to  prove  the  natural   vigor   of  that 
mind  which  enabled  him  to  supply  all  these  defects  and  to 
become  learned,  eloquent  and  useful,  to  a  degree  seldom 
attained.' 

The  answer  to  the  question,  By  what  means  did  Rein- 
hard,  weak  and  sickly  as  he  was,  succeed  in  accomplishing 
so  much?  must  be  sought  for  in  his  self-control,  temper- 
ance, regularity,  and  careful  attention  to  business. 

Always  very  severe  towards  himself,  he  had  acquired 

=*  De  oralore,  1. 1,  var.  loc.  in  the  person  of  Crassus. 

*13 


150  reinhard's 

such  a  habit  of  struggling  with  pain,  as  seldom  to  permit 
it  to  interrupt  his  labors.  During  his  residence  at  the 
Gymnasium  in  Regensburg,  he  was  twice  brought  down 
with  a  burning  fever  wliich  ahnost  deprived  him  of  exis- 
tence, and  so  weak  was  he,  that  his  friends  tried  to  per- 
suade him  to  relinquish  all  thoughts  of  ever  entering  the 
ministry.  His  whole  life  at  the  university  was  a  constant 
scene  of  struggling  with  poverty.  He  then  had  but  a 
groat*  a  day  to  live  upon,  and  often  went  entirely  destitute 
of  warm  food.  Nor  did  he  fare  much  better  during  the 
commencement  of  his  professorship  at  Wittemberg.  Great 
earnings  in  this  case  were  not  to  be  thought  of,  so  that 
notwithstanding  the  rich  feasts  daily  presented  to  the  mind, 
the  poor  body  was  often  suffered  to  go  empty.  His  self- 
denial  in  these  respects  united  with  his  great  eflbrts,  in 
spite  of  the  regularity  of  his  life  and  the  systematicalness 
of  his  studies,  unquestionably  created  the  germ  of  those 
stubborn  corporeal  diseases,  which  he  bore  for  years  in 
silence,  but  which,  united  with  the  misfortune  he  met  with, 
in  1803,  ultimately  occasioned  his  death. 

Under  such  circumstances  would  it  have  been  strange, 
if  he  had  been  subject  to  hypochondria,  misanthropy,  and 
dissociableness  ?  And  yet  with  all  his  sickness,  he  expe- 
rienced nothing  of  the  fury  of  the  present  nervous  age,  or 
of  hy()ochondria.  The  dominion  which  he  had  acquired 
over  himself  by  early  exercise,  regular  occupation,  and 
pious  moderation,  had  secured  him  against  this  demon, 
and  will  secure  every  one  against  it,  who  lives  as  Rein- 
hard  did.  The  uncommon  greatness  of  the  man,  howev- 
er, becomes  still  more  conspicuous,  when  we  consider, 
that,  with  all  his  inexorable  severity  and  his  efforts  to  con- 
quer his  stubborn  body  as  he  used  to  call  it,  he  never  be- 
came unsociable,  averse  to  amusement,  inaccessible,  pee- 
vish, or  strongly  rigorous  against  himself.  Every  part  of  his 
conduct  in  these  respects  was  that  of  a  rational  man  and  a 
Christian.  He  has  indeed  been  accused  of  severity  to- 
wards others.  He  has  never  been  complained  of,  how- 
ever, in  this  respect,  except  by  idlers  and  voluptuaries, 
or  those  desirous  of  full  reward  for  the  most  trifling  merit ; 
and  with  his  self-control,  diligence  and  moderation,  to- 

*  Groscheii;  a  little  less  than  a  groat. 


CHARACTER,    ETC.  161 

wards  such  persons,  he  might  justly  be  severe ;  though  if 
he  ever  was  so,  it  was  only  when  the  general  prevalence  of 
sloth  and  inactivity  rendered  it  his  duty  to  exhibit  severity. 
At  other  times,  he  expressed  himself  respecting  them  only 
in  harmless  jokes  and  comparisons.* 

He  never  paid  any  attention  to  the  distinctions  of  prop- 
erty or  employment  in  tliose  who  approached  him,  nor  did 
he  require  those  who  addressed  him,  to  use  other  titles 
than  those  peculiar  to  the  forms  of  civility.  Those  who 
had  important  business  to  transact,  conversed  with  him 
freel}^,  and  never  saw  any  thing  like  displeasure  on  his 
countenance  except  when,  by  using  a  multiplicity  of  words, 
they  robbed  him  of  his  precious  time  ;  for  to  him  in  this 
respect,  laconism  and  definiteness  were  of  very  great  im- 
portance. It  is  true,  he  did  not  call  every  one  a  friend  ; 
but  then  it  should  be  recollected,  that  the  man  of  deep  hu- 
man knowledge,  who  has  had  numerous  doubts  and  ac- 
quired his  insight  into  the  intricacies  of  the  heart,  more 
by  closely  observing  himself  than  associating  with  others, 
does  not  often  suffer  the  abused  name  of  friendship  to  pass 
through  his  lips  ;  and  hence,  that  appearance  of  open 
heariedness  with  which  the  men  of  the  world  too  often 
dazzle,  does  not  constitute  a  part  of  his  character.  Rein- 
hard  had  attended  carefully  to  the  movements  of  the  hu- 
man heart,f  and  hence,  was  slow  in  confiding  in  man.  The 
Cicilian  poet  whispered  into  his  ear  as  it  did  into  Cicero's  : 
*  Live  and  learn  not  to  trust,  for  this  is  the  nerve  of  xvis- 
dom.^X  ^^  scorned  however  to  veil  his  mistrust  with  the 
polished  mask  of  the  man  of  the  world.  Nor  did  this 
prove  prejudicial  to  the  goodness  and  innocence  of  his 
character.  The  pure  heart  cannot  give  itself  up  freely 
and  happily  to  a  man's  friendship,  until  it  has  tried  him  ; 
and  as  soon  as  Reinhard  had  done  so,  he  evinced  himself 
susceptible  of  the  most   noble,  generous,  and  joyful  im- 

*  He  frequently  compared  idlers  and  voluptuaries  with  the  Phaeaces  of  Ho- 
mer. It  is  probably  owing  to  the  severity  of  Reinhard's  character,  that  he 
was  often  complained  of,  as  haughty  and  proud.  Those  who  made  these  com- 
plaints were  certainly  unacquainted  with  the  man. 

t  To  be  convinced  of  this,  compare  Jahrg-.  1796,  Pred.  I.  249,  entitled. 
Every  man  has  Ids  value,  a  sermon  said  to  be  one  of  the  most  perfect  that 
modern  eloquence  has  produced;  also  the  preface  to  the  2d  ed.  of  these  serm.  S. 
Vni,  and  his  very  valuable  work  already  mentioned,  respecting  a  trifling  spirit, 

t  Polybius,  Vol.  VHI.  p.  375,  ed.  Schweigh. 


152  reinhard's 

pressions,  possessed  of  every  genuine,  social  virtue,  and 
capable  of  giving  and  receiving  all  the  spice  of  life.  Se- 
riousness constituted  his  prevailing  trait  and  generally  sat 
upon  his  countenance,  but  never  to  such  a  degree  as  to 
frighten  others  away  from  him  or  disturb  their  pleasure. 
He  embraced  the  whole  human  family  in  his  grasp  of  phi- 
lanthrophy  and  fraternal  love,  was  often  deeply  affected  on 
reading  the  events  of  a  newspaper,  sympathized  in  every 
thing  relative  to  the  learned,  his  fellow  citizens,  his  friends, 
and  the  great  fable  of  man,"^^  and  would  gladly,  were  it  in 
his  power,  have  blended  all  the  interests  of  tliose  whom  he 
knew  so  well  how  to  describe,  into  one. 

He  was  a  spirited  companion  and  excellent  in  conversa- 
tion.    The  weapons  of  dialectics  which  he   knew  how  to 
use  with   such  effect  in  his  examinations    and  oratorical 
exercises,  in  such  'cases  also  served  him  an  excellent  pur- 
pose, furnished  him  with  witty  turns  and  remarks,  and  ren- 
dered   him    victorious   without  wounding.      His   faithful 
memory  retained  an  abundance    of  pleasing  and  interest- 
ing narratives  which  he  told  with  great  animation  and  ef- 
fect, and  he   was   daily  drawing   new  ones  from  reading 
the  ancients  and  moderns,  and  hence,  was  in  no  danger  of 
making  repetitions.     He  was  very  agreeable  in  jesting,  and 
fond  of  pithy  turns  and  witty  remarks  on  public  occasions, 
and  had   a  quiver  full  of  them  himself,  though  he  made  a 
cautious  use  of  them  ;  by  taking  which  course,  he  preserv- 
ed his  own  dignity, and  always  remained  within  the  bounds  of 
the  strictest  politeness,  while  he  added  to  the  enjoyment  of 
the  table.     At  the  richest  meals  he  never  transgressed  the 
bounds  of  moderation,  and  oftener  than  otherwise  suffer- 
ed plates,  dishes  and  salvers  to  pass  by  him  untouched, 
frequently  saying  in  the  confidential  circle  of  his  friends, 
j    that  he  did  not  live  to  eat,  but  he  eat  to  live.     Hence,  on 
such  occasions,  he  had  more  time  for  conversation  than 
most  persons,  and  he  improved  it,  being  as  Cicero  says  of 
himself,  a  man  of  less  food  than  wit.     His  house  was  a 
temple  of  hospitality,  genuine  but  not  splendid.     He  usual- 
ly partook  of  a  Soeratic  meal  at  home,  for  he  was  unwil- 
ling to  accept  of  invitations  to  go  out  on  account  of  the 

*  Hanc  quasi  fabulam  eventorum  nostrorum,  Cicero  ad  Div.  V.  12, 19. 


CHARACTEK,    ETC.  1^3 


loss  of  time  it  occasioned.  There  in  his  own  little  compa- 
ny he  exhibited  his  open  heanedness  and  joyful  demeanor, 
and  diffused  pleasure  throughout  the  room.     ^  ^ 

He  was  ever  active  in  business,  but  his  activity  was  not 
of  a   tumultuous,  extravagant   character,  reck  ess    ol  the 
laws  of  nature,  and  calculated  to   exhaust  and    ulumately 
annihilate  the  body.     On  the  other  hand,  the  day  was  di- 
vided into  the  most  regular  order,  and  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  save  the   most   time.     Every  hour  had  its   destination. 
From  this  order,  he  was  always  umvillmg  to  deviate.     As 
soon  as  the  hour  arrived  he   went  about   his  business,  as 
soon  as  it   had   elapsed,  he  left  it;  nor  could  the  choicest 
company  chain   him  bevond  the  s.ated  period.     l\or   was 
he  mechanical  in  his  habits  of  this  kind,  for  his  labors  were 
alternated   with  reading,  writing,  study,  walking,  &lc.,  so 
that  the  day  was  agreeably  diversified,  while   his  strength 
was  preserved  from  one  day  and  hour  to   another  lor  reg- 
ularly prosecuting  his  work.* 

He  awoke  nrecisely  at  six  o'clock,  and  arose  without 
fail  as  soon  as  he  awoke.     The  winter  produced  no  change 
in  this  respect.     The  first  succeeding  hour  was  devoted  to 
his  most  difficult  and  sacred  task,— to  cornmitting  to  mem- 
ory the  sermon  which  he  was  next  to  deliver,  which  he  be- 
2;an  to  rehearse  on  the  morning  after  he  last  preached,  and 
which  had  been  written  a  week  beforehand.     As  soon  as 
he  had  entered  his  study,  he  repeated  what  he  had  gotten 
by  heart,  in  order  to  connect  it  immediately  with  what  lo  - 
lowed.     While  he  was  going  through  this  process,  he  took 
a  cup  of  coffee,  and   a  servant  entered   and  dressed  his 
hair,   which   he   had  never  been  able  to  exchange  for  a 
peruke,  notwithstanding  the  violent  remonstrances  made 
with  him  at  first,  respecting  it.f     When  this  was  done,  he 
dressed  himself  without  the  aid  of  a  servant,  prelerrmg  m 
this  respect  to  maintain  the  simple   habits  of  his  earlier 
years,  and  that  independence  for  which  the  Greeks  and 
princes  of  the  heroic  age  were  so  distinguished.     When 


*  Tzscliirner's  Hriefe,  T 


*  Tzscnirner's  l^rieie.  i. 

tReinhard  brought  bacl<  to  Saxony  the  fV^'T  "^  ^'"'^''Thl'nTe'fiS 
their  own  hair.  H.'s  want  of  a  peruke  excited  loud  murmunnss  "h^"  ]>««?; 
emered  the  faculty  at  W,lteml.er?.  He  rephed,  however,  ^V  P— S J"  ^h^ 
pictures  of  ihe  great  reformers,  and  sliowing  that  tlie  custom  of  wearaig  taJse 


hair  could  not  be  supported  by  history. 


154  reinhard's 

this  division  of  the  day  had  elapsed  he  passed  to  reading 
the  Scriptures,  to  him  ahvays  the  word  of  God,  with  which 
he  consecrated  himself  to  the  work  hefore  him,  and  often 
connected  a  prayer,  that  they  might  be  formed  in  his  soul 
in  spirit  and  in  truth.     For  this  purpose  he  usually  select- 
ed some  definite  portion  of  the  New  Testament.     The 
Psalms  and  the  prophet  Isaiah  were  his  favorite  books  in 
the  Old  Testament.     On  such  occasions,  having  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  the  Hebrew  and  its  cognate  dialects,  he  al- 
ways used  the  original  languages,  and  he  derived  as  great 
and  varied   pleasure   from   this  exercise,   as  a   philologist 
does  from  the  perusal  of  a  favorite  Greek  or  Latin  poet  for 
the  fifth  or  the  tenth  time.     It  was  the  divine  character  of 
what  he  read,  however,  which  gave  him  his  greatest  pleas- 
ure, animated   his  heart,  and  rendered  this  a  truly  devo- 
tional exercise.     To  reading  the  Scriptures  immediately 
succeeded  the  labor  o(  his  calling,  such  as  reflection,  and 
composing  a  sermon,  to  which   work  he  usually  applied 
the  last  half  of  the  week,  as  then  he  had   no  sessions  to 
cittend,  or  reading  the  acts  for  the  church  and  the  chief 
consistory.      During  the  three  days  of  the  session,  the  rest 
of  the  morning  was  usually  devoted  to  the  sessions  of  the 
board.     The  last  hour  of  the  forenoon,  dm^ing  the  two 
first  days  of  the  week  when  there  were  no  sessions,  was 
statedly  devoted  to  speaking.     During  the  few  moments 
allotted    to    dinner,   he    usually   gave   the  latest   political 
newspapers    a    hasty    examination,     and    twice    a    week 
spent  some  time  after  dinner  in  reading  the  latest  public 
journals.     On  other  days,  this  time,  wasted  by  so  many 
in   the   arms  of  sleep,   was  chiefly  spent  in  reading  his- 
tory.    In  every  thing  new  that  came  before  iiim,  he  al- 
ways distinguished  what  he  bad  read  through,  from  W'hat 
he    had   merely  turned   over.     Whenever  he   found  any 
thing  worthy  of  an  attentive  perusal,  he  noted  it  down  in 
a  book  kept  for  the  purpose,  a  practice  which  he  continu- 
ed until   his   last  sickness,  but  of  what  he  hastily  [)assed 
over,  he  took  no  notice.     He  seldom  took  notes  of  any 
thing  he  read,  except  when  it  had  some  bearing  upon  his 
Christian  Ethics.     This  arose  in  part  from  his  frugality  of 
time,  and  in  part  from  the  confidence  he  had  in  the  good- 
ness of  his  memory  for  retaining  matters  of  fact.     Towards 


CHARACTER,    ETC.  155 

thrfee  o'clock,  he  returned  to  writing  and  other  business. 
If  his  health  periniited,  during  the  latter  part  of  the  after- 
tioon  he  took  an  excursion  in  the  open  air, — an  excursion 
which  he  was  unwilling  to  omit  even  in  unfavorable  weath- 
er, but   which,   to  save    time  and  shun    observation,   he 
often   took    in   the   evening.     While  at  Wittemherg,  af- 
ter his  marriage,  when  he  had  a  carriage  at  command,  he 
usually  took  a  short  ride   with  his  friend  Schockh,  in  the 
open  air,  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon.     During  the  ear- 
lier part  of  his  residence  at  Dresden,  in  compliance  with 
the  precepts  of  physicians  and  in  obedience  to  the  univer- 
sal prescription  so  much  extolled  by  Klopstock,  he  substi- 
tuted riding  on  horseback  for  walking,  being  furnished  with 
a  surefooted  horse  out  of  the  royal  stables  for  this  purpose, 
but  after  the  breaking  of  his  leg  in  1803,  he  could  never 
be  induced  to  mount  a  horse  again,  though  he  was  ear- 
nestly intreated  to  do  so,  especially  by  his  beloved  brother- 
in-law.  Lieut. General  Baron  v.Thielmann, who  promised  to 
be  his  faithful  guardian,  and  a  compliance  with  the  request 
would  doubtless  have  prolonged  his  valuable  life.     He  al- 
ways found  these  excursions  invigorating  and  refreshing, 
and  well  calculated  to  prepare  him  for  the  enjoyment,  if 
not  o{  a  painless  and  undisturbed,  yet  of  a  tolerable  night's 
repose. 

In  the  summer,  which  Reinhard  generally  spent  at  his 
residence  in  Wilsdruf  one  of  the  suburbs  of  Dresden,  he 
used  to  walk  for  an  hour  about  six  or  seven  in  the  even- 
ing, up  and  down  in  his  garden.     Susceptible  as  he  was  of 
all  the  beauties  of  nature,  he  considered  this  a  most  de- 
lightfdl  retreat.     Here  he  was  surrounded  with  the  choic- 
est of  Flora's  children,  collected  together  from  all  climates, 
each  in  its  proper  place  invhing  him  to  silent  contempla- 
tion, especially  the  pink,  carnation  and  tulip,  with  whose 
ever  varying  beauties  he  was  particularly  delighted.     In 
one  part  of  it,  there  was  a  circular  arch,  formed  of  the 
thick  foliage  of  leaves,  in  the  midst  of  which  there  was 
a  living  spring.     Here,  beneath  the  cooling  shade,  dur- 
ing the  warm  evenings  of  summer,  the  tea-table  was  set, 
around  which,  a  few  confidential  friends  united  in  social 
intercourse.     On  the  one  hand,  it  was  adorned  with  works 
of  art,  on  the  other  with  an  apiary  and  its  busy  inmates. 


156  reinhard's 

Not  far  ofF,  stood  a  green  house,  in  which  there  was 
a  cabinet  easy,  to  be  warmed  through,  to  which  resort 
was  had  in  the  cold  days  of  the  season.*  Of  course, 
Reinhard  was  driven  from  this  pleasant  retreat  in  the 
winter,  but  he  found  an  excellent  substitute  for  it  in  his 
library,  in  the  upper  apartment  of  his  official  residence 
in  the  city,  which  was  now  nearer  at  hand.  This  he  con- 
sidered as  his  treasure-chamber,  and  going  up  to  it  and 
returning  from  it  furnished  him  with  agreeable  exercise. 
It  contained  not  a  single  useless  production,  was  well 
selected,  received  continual  additions,  and,  together  with 
his  papers,  was  always  kept  in  the  highest  order. 

When  Reinhard  had  no  guests  to  wait  upon,  he  usu- 
ally passed  the  evening  in  reading  or  writing  in  his  study, 
almost  always  pursuing  the  same  order,  until  about  eight 
o'clock  ;  when  he  was  called  to  his  frugal  repast.  Dur- 
ing this  time,  he  wrote  his  more  important  letters.  Those 
of  his  letters  relating  merely  to  visits  and  the  duties  of 
his  office,  he  dispatched  in  those  fragments  of  time  which 
others  idle  away. 

Reinhard  however  had   a  great  number  of  letters  to 
write  upon  theological,  literary,  and  other  important  sub- 
jects,  which  were  altogether  dry  and   unattractive,    and 
yet  required  extensive  preparatory  investigation.     Saxo- 
ny, long  distinguished  for  her  men  of  learning  and  acute- 
ness,  had    had   more  literary  characters  than  any  other 
German  state,  in  whom  had  been  awakened  the  desire 
of  authorship.     Called  as  he  was  by  the  station  he  oc- 
cupied, to  exercise   a  general  superintendence  over  the 
institutions  of  the  country,  it  was  natural  that  his  opinion 
should  be  sought  for  by  all  who  carried  this  desire  into 
effect.     Hence,  of  almost  every  work  great  or  small,  in 
his  department,  published  in  Saxony,  and  of  many  pub- 
lished in  foreign  countries,  during  the  last  twenty  years 
of  his  life,  numerous  as  they  were,  he  received  a  copy 
from  the    proprietor  or  author,  with  an  earnest  request 
for  a  preliminary  notice   or  essay.      With  critical   insti- 
tutes, from  the  moment  he  became  general  superintend- 
ent, he  refused  to  have  any  thing  to  do.      To  the  re- 

*  A  vQxy  m\nute  description  is  given  by  Botliger,  of  Reinhard's  garden, 
which  seems  16  have  been  an  elegant  one,  and  was  occasionally  honored  with 
poetical  descriptions  in  Latin. 


CHARACTER,    ETC.  157 

quests  he  thus  received,  however,  he  conscientiously  at- 
tended, vviihout  respect  to  person,  knowledge  or  country; 
for  he  made  it  an  invariable  rule  to  write  a  friendly 
letter  to  every  author  of  such  requests,  in  which  he 
either  approved  of  ihe  work  or  kindly  pointed  out  its 
errors ;  and  many  there  are  in  Saxony  and  elsewhere, 
who  must  acknowledge  themselves  greatly  indebted  to 
his  counsel  and  encouragement  in  this  respect.  For- 
eign sermons  were  the  only  things  he  was  unwilling  to 
meddle  with,  though,  being  censor  for  Dresden,  it  was 
his  duty  to  do  so,  and  he  has  often  been  accused  of 
negligence  with  respect  to  these  publications  ;  but  call- 
ed upon  to  examine  thousands  of  works  as  he  was  ev- 
ery year,  it  was  natural  that  an  occasional  sermon 
should  sometimes  escape  his  notice.  To  all  this,  add 
the  advice  in  cases  of  conscience,  which  was  often  re- 
quired of  him,  especially  by  persons  of  rank  ;  the  num- 
erous letters  he  received-  in  consultation  respecting  eccle- 
siastical ani  literary  affairs,  to  all  which  he  gave  de- 
tailed, conscientious  replies,  and  often  with  the  happiest 
results  ;  and  it  will  be  easy  to  perceive  that  his  corres- 
pondence was  very  extensive  and  required  much  lime. 
Reinhard's  supper  was  as  simple  as  his  dinner.  He 
drank  nothing  but  a  glass  of  wine  mixed  with  some  wa- 
ter and  seldom  eat  of  more  than  one  dish,  though  sev- 
eral were  set  on  the  table.  At  tea,  be  usually  met  with 
friends,  and  strangers  from  a  distance,  who,  passing 
through  the  place,  had  called  upon  him  as  a  matter  of 
old  acquaintance  or  by  letters  of  recommendation,  with 
whom  he  indulged  in  lively  conversation  and  pleasing 
turns  and  remarks.  "  Thanks  to  God,"  he  used  to  say, 
on  such  occasions,  "  sanctify,  and  pleasing  conversation 
adds  spire  to,  every  dish."  After  tea,  if  no  visiters 
were  present,  he  used  to  play  a  lew  tunes  upon  a  harp- 
sichord which  always  stood  in  his  parlor,  in  doing  which, 
he  generally  gave  himself  up  to  his  own  imagination. 
As  he  was  very  fond  of  sacred  songs  and  by  the  se- 
lections he  made  of  hymns  for  his  sermons,  showed 
that  he  knew  when  they  were  lyrical,  and  used  fre- 
quently to  play  some  fine  choral  song,  always  singing  as 
he  played,  from  the  strain  of  his  music  it  was  in  general 
easy  to  ascertain  the  discord  or  the  harmony  of  the  deep- 
14 


158  reinhard's 

est  feelings  of  his  soul,  and  the  general  character  of  the 
thoughts  which  occupied  his  mind.  Often,  when  in  writ- 
ing or  meditation,  he  found  himself  perplexed  with  a 
train  of  thought  or  unable  to  develop  it  with  sufficient 
clearness,  he  ran  out  to  his  harpsichord  in  the  parlor, 
and  generally  not  in  vain;  for  a  few  touches  upon  it  re- 
duced every  thing  to  calmness  and  regularity.  After 
preaching  also,  he  used  to  refresh  himself  by  playing 
some  spiritual  vohmtary  upon  this  instrument,  giving  him- 
self up  to  the  feelings  which  pervaded  his  heart.  An 
accomplished  musician  or  player  he  did  not  pretend  to 
be.  In  his  youth  while  at  Regensburg,  in  private  con- 
certs, he  had  played  the  second  violin,  and  under  the 
instruction  of  the  distinguished  Kiistnep,  had  made  con- 
siderable progress  in  playing  upon  the  harpsichord.  Af- 
terwards, however,  the  serious  business  of  life  left  him 
no  time  or  desire  for  playing  agreeably  to  *he  rules  of  art. 
He  generally  closed  the  evening  by  reading,  or  causing 
his  wife  to  read  for  him,  some  easy,  enlightening,  sooth- 
ing piece;  this  presenting  him  with  the  advantage  of 
permitting  all  effort  to  cease,  and  agreeably  preparing 
the  way  for  sleep.  Only  when  greatly  pressed  with  bus- 
iness, and  hence,  in  extraordinary  cases,  did  he  take  up 
his  pen  after  supper.  By  the  rules  of  his  harmonious 
and  strictly  regulated  life,  all  study  by  the  midnight 
lamp  was  wholly   forbidden. 

Reinhard  never  had  any  children  of  his  own,  but  yet 
he  showed  himself  in  the  tenderest  sense,  the  child's 
friend.  Several  of  his  sermons,  particularly  those  preach- 
ed on  fasts  and  the  assembling  of  the  Diet,  treat  expressly 
of  the  education  of  children,  and  contain  genuine  Chris- 
tian rules  for  governing  them  in  a  proper  manner,  though, 
for  reasons  easy  to  be  comprehended,  he  always  laugh- 
ed at  the  numerous  pompons  professions  of  modern  ped- 
agogics, and  felt  some  distrust  in  Peslalozzi's  method  of 
instruction,  at  least  in  the  universality  of  its  application. 
He  always  embraced  the  diligent  youth  of  the  high  school 
at  Pforte  in  the  arms  of  real  paternal  love  and  called 
them  his  sons.  For  many  of  the  youth  in  the  schools 
and  universities  of  the  coutitry,  he  exhibited  the  assid- 
uous and  faithful  care  of  a  father.  Like  all  men  distin- 
guished for  their  greatness  and  goodness,  he  delighted  to 


CHARACTER,    ETC.  159 

see  the  pure  happiness  and  the  simple  plays  of  active  little 
children.  Only  a  few  days  before  his  death,  he  spent 
some  time  with  a  kind  lad,  one  of  his  relatives,  who  had 
been  brought  up  almost  under  his  eye,  in  urging  him  to 
attend  to  pious  instruction,  as  h?  was  one  year  older. 
To  those  in  want  he  was  always  very  liberal.  Many 
were  the  calls  he  received  from  the  wretched  who  await- 
ed for  him  in  their  places  as  he  passed  along  the  street, 
nor  were  they  ever  left  unsatisfied.  From  the  pecuni- 
ary aid  thrown  into  charity  boxes  on  particular  days  on 
which  he  preached,  he  had  for  good  reasons  as  he 
thought,  added  to  the  amount  of  his  spending  money,  un- 
til it  enabled  him  to  support  one  hundred  and  twenty 
poor  people.  The  assistance,  however,  which  he  receiv- 
ed in  this  w^ay  was  very  small,  and  he  increased  it  by 
various  extraordinary  contributions.  His  name  was  to 
be  found  on  every  subscription  list  for  a  benevolent  ob- 
ject, and  in  liberal  terms.  He  did  not  confine  his  be- 
nevolence, however,  to  the  poor  with  whom  he  was  im- 
mediately surrounded.  He  sent  forth  his  contributions 
in  every  quarter,  for,  from  all  quarters  he  received  press- 
ing solicitations  for  contributions.  Many  in  urging  their 
claims  upon  him,  might  degenerate  into  obtrusiveness, 
but  he  gave  still.  Ingratitude  did  not  cause  him  to  err, 
or  withdraw  his  kindness.  Respecting  the  worthiness 
or  the  unworthiness  of  the  objects  of  his  charity,  he 
seldom  entered  into  any  very  minute  or  extensive  ex- 
amination. The  man  needs  it  now !  that  satisfied  Rein- 
hard  ;  for  though  he  honored  nice  calculations  and  in- 
quiries in  booksellers  and  the  stewards  of  public  institu- 
tions of  benevolence,  he  did  not  in  the  giver.  When- 
ever contributions  were  called  for  to  meet  ivants  created 
by  some  great  and  sudden  calamity,  whether  at  home  or 
abroad,  he  always  came  forward  among  the  first  and  most 
generous.  The  fire  at  Regensburg  in  1809,  and  the 
powder  explosion  at  Eisenach  in  1810,  excited  his 
most  tender  sympathy.  To  Luther's  monument,  how- 
ever, he  contributed  very  unwillingly  and  only  a  single 
piece  of  money ;  <  for,'  said  he,  *  every  new  reformation 
festival  and  every  verse  of  his  translation  of  the  Bible, 
renders  this  superfluous.'  Indeed,  he  foretold  the  fate  of 
this  contribution  with  almost  prophetical  certainty,  for  it 


160  '      reinhard's 

was  lost  in  and  with  Magdeburg.  He  contributed  with 
the  greatest  generosity  and  pleasure,  however,  to  the  sup- 
port of  new  schools  and  institutions  of  instruction,  and, 
though  he  considered  the  system  of  giving  stipends  as 
in  many  respects  defective,  as  it  gives  rise  to  abuses  and 
hypocritical  pretensions,  yet  he  yearly  disposed  of  con- 
siderable sums  by  way  of  stipends  to  poor  students,vvho  were 
either  his  godchildren  or  had  been  recommended  to  him. 

To  selfishness,  that  rust  of  little  souls,  as  well  as  to 
envy,  prejudice,  and  partiality  in  promotion,  this  great 
man  was  equally  a  stranger.  Indeed,  he  was  often  heard 
to  speak  with  satisfaction  of  the  fact  that  he  was  child- 
less, and  as  a  stranger,  must  be  entirely  free  from  the 
most  gently  whispered  suspicion  of  having  favored 
his  relatives.  The  man  who  conducted  as  the  fittest 
and  worthiest,  God  only  being  thoroughly  acquaint- 
ed with  the  heart,  was  always  his  favorite.  Such  an 
one  he  considered  as  his  friend,  while  he  counselled,  re- 
commended, and  assisted  him  as  far  as  it  was  in  his 
power.  He  seldom  took  any  thing  for  performing  the 
duties  of  his  office.  Whatever  he  received  in  this  way, 
he  almost  always  handed  over  to  the  colleagues  next  to 
him  in  rank  in  the  evangelical  Court  Church.  He  would 
scarcely  ever  receive  any  thing  but  books  from  his  pub- 
lishers for  some  of  his  choicest  productions.  All  that 
he  required  of  them  was,  to  sell  his  works  at  a  mod- 
crate  price.  They  did  so,  and  this  accounts  for  the  in- 
crease made  in  the  price  of  subsequent  editions.  In- 
deed, he  almost  absolutely  and  unconditionally  gave 
many  of  them  away.  The  sum  of  three  hundred  dol- 
lars, which,  according  to  the  constitution,  he  received  for 
every  sermon  he  preached  on  the  assembling  of  the 
Diet,  he  devoted  to  some  pious  object.  In  1811,  he 
disposed  of  it  as  a  small  premium-fund  for  diligent 
alumni,  at  St.  Afra.  For  a  sermon  which  he  deliver- 
ed on  the  third  Advent  Sunday  in  the  University  Church 
at  Leipsic,  in  1808,  he  was  offered  various  and  large 
sums,  but  he  disposed  of  it  for  a  work  which  was  not 
in  the  university  library,  but  which  was  to  be  presented 
to  it  by  the  publisher.  Of  course,  he  never  made  men- 
tion of  these  circumstances. 

Reinhard  had  exalted  views   of  the  marriage  state. 


V<' 


CHARACTER,    ETC. 


161 


Upon  this  subject  he  was  wont  to  say  with  Luiher,  one 
of  his  favorite  authors;  *a  pious,  humble,  sympathizing 
and  domestic  wife,  with  whom  a  man  can  livo  satisfied 
and  happy,  and  to  whom  he  can  intrust  his  property 
and  whatever  he  has,  yea  his  life  and  body,  is  one  of 
the  highest  and  best  gifts  of  God.'*  Of  the  truth  of 
this  he  was  well  convinced  from  experience  ;f  for  he 
had  two  wives  in  the  course  of  his  life,  who  constantly 
stood  by  him,  and,  like  genii,  attended  to  all  his  wants; 
without  whose  aid  it  would  have  hardly  been  possible 
for  him  to  attain  to  such  perfection  as  he  actually  did, 
in  observing  the  principles  of  virtue  and  happiness  vvhich 
he  had  selected  as  the  rule  of  his  conduct.  His  first 
wife  was  the  widow  of  the  learned  theologian,  John  Chr. 
Schmid  of  Wittemberg,  his  former  teacher  and  friend, 
well  knownj  even  in  foreign  countries,  for  his  applica- 
tion of  his  knowledge  of  French  to  theological  purpo- 
ses, and  his  defence  of  the  C  anon  of  the  sacred  Scrip- 
tures. Reinhard  had  been  an  inmate  of  this  man's 
family  and  derived  much  benefit  from  intercourse  with 
him  and  access  to  his  select  library.  He  was  well  known 
therefore  to  Mrs.  Schmid,  who,  on  the  death  of  her 
husband,  considered  this  poor  young  professor,  then 
just  entering  his  academical  career,  splendidly  distin- 
guished as  he  was  for  his  lectures,  and  remarkably  strict 
and  exemplary  in  attending  to  religion  and  the  per- 
formance of  his  duties,  as  of  all  others  the  most  de- 
serving of  her  hand;  and  hence,  resolved  to  go  with 
him  through  life.  The  marriage  was  a  happy  one, 
though  not  of  long  continuance,  for  Reinhard  lost  her 
and  her  son,  whom  he  loved  exceedingly,  and  had  taken 
great  pains  to  instruct,  the  second  year  after  his  remo- 
val to  Dresden.  She  possessed  a  feeble  constitution, 
but  a  well-educated  and  matured  mind,  united  with  no- 
bleness of  soul,  sound  judgment,  and  a  discriminating 
knowledge  of  men  and  things,  and  was  highly  interest- 

•  See  Bredow's  Katharine  von  Boren,  Minerva  aufs  Jahr,  1813,  S.  327. 

t  See  his  precious  sermon  Respecting  a  disposition  for  the  domestic  virtue»f 
(vom  SinnefUr  die  Hauslichkeit,)  Jahrg.  1801,  I.  47,  with  which  compare  1ms 
Moral,  III,  309—461 }  IV.  694. 

J  Saxii  Onomasticum,  T,  VII,  p.  222  ff. 


162  REINHARD  S 

ing  and  profitable  in  conversation.*  To  the  not  incon- 
siderable property  which  she  brought  with  her,  Rein- 
hard  was  indebted  for  the  greater  security  and  inde- 
pendence he  enjoyed  after  her  death  in  those  relations 
of  life  which  he  was  called  to  sustain. 

For  his  second  wife,  Reinhard  selected  the  daughter  of 
Von  Charpentier,  captain  of  the  mines,  and  immortal  as  a 
mineralogist  and  metallurgist  in  the  annals  of  Freyberg, 
and  the  history  of  the  art  of  mining.  She  was  of  a  fami- 
ly distinguished  for  the  union  of  uprightness  and  hospitali- 
ty with  the  finest  sense  of  art,  and  frequented  by  men  of 
genius  from  both  the  north  and  the  south  of  Germany, — 
was  amiable,  full  of  soul,  blessed  with  excellencies  of  body 
and  mind,  and  adorned  with  the  female  virtues.  She 
carefully  studied  the  character  of  her  husband,  and  en- 
deavored to  render  his  troublesome  life,  easy,  useful  and 
happy.  Indeed,  as  Reinhard's  study  door  generally  stood 
open,  so  that  his  study  and  parlor  constituted  as  it  were  but 
one  room,  she  may  be  said  to  have  been  always  present 
with  him  while  he  was  engaged  in  his  domestic  business  ; 
never  interrupting  him,  but  ever  faithful,  watchful,  and  ten- 
derly attentive  to  his  w^nts.  He  could  not  feel  solitary 
while  she  was  about  him.  Sometimes  she  acted  as  his  li- 
brarian, and  directed  his  letters,  at  others  as  his  travelhng 
marshal. f  She  read,  sung,  or  played  to  him  on  the  harp- 
sichord to  comfort  him  when  weary,  and  watched  over  him 
with  the  tenderest,  most  affectionate  solicitude  in  his  sick- 
ness, and  to  the  last  moment  of  his  life,  seldom  calling  to 
her  aid  the  assistance  of  others,  but  presenting  herself  dai- 
ly and  hourly  at  his  bedside,  in  a  manner  which  fully 
evinced  the  real  pleasure  she  felt  in  being  there.  To 
her  extraordinary  efforts  in  taking  care  of  Reinhard,  we 

*  He  doubtless  had  her  in  view,  when  he  wrote  the  passage  :  Animadverti 
feminas — celeritate  iudicii  viris  non  raro  et  multum  antecellere3  Opusc. 
Acad.  II.  177  seqq. 

t  Reinhard  practised  what  he  himself  has  recommended  in  a  physical  and 
ascetical  respect,  (Moral,  IV.  618  ff.,)  as  a  means  of  restoring-  and  invig-orat- 
ing-  the  system  ;  namely,  journeying.  From  1^95  to  1803,  he  made  a  journey 
every  summer,  in  addition  to  those  which  he  was  obliged  to  make  in  perform- 
ing the  duties  of  his  office,  and  always  in  company  with  his  faithful  and  belov- 
ed wife.  On  one  of  these  occasions,  he  formed  an  acquaintance  with  the  Mo- 
ravian Brethren;  on  another,  visited  his  native  place  ;  on  a  third,  renewed  the 
scenes  of  his  youth  at  Regensburg  or  Ratisbon  as  it  is  usually  called  in  Eng- 
lish ;  on  a  fourth  visited  a  sister,  married  to  a  clergyman  settled  in  Lower  Sax- 
ony ;  cmd  in  1802,  he  visited  Vienna,  where  he  spent  several  weeks, — a  jour' 
ney  which  he  afterwards  ever  mentioned  with  the  greatest  satisfaction. 


CHARACTER,    ETC.  163 

are,  humanly  speaking,  indebted  for  the  preservation  of  his 
life  from  the  year  1803,*  and  the  blesi,ing  he  proved  dur- 
ing a  space  of  nine  years,  in  preaching,  writing  and  other 
labors,  not  only  to  Saxony,  but  to  tlie  whole  Protestant 
world.  With  justice  did  he  call  her  his  guardian  angel. 
Often  in  moments  of  severe  anguish  did  he  speak  of  her  in 
grateful  terms,  and  as  his  end  drew  near,  return  thanks  to 
God  for  having  sent  him  such  a  faiihlul  nurse  to  pray  and 
suffer  with  him,  alieviate  his  pains  and  fill  him  with  such  joy 
and  consolaticm.  Nor  will  otliers  soon  forget  her.  Where- 
ever  tlie  German  language  is  spoken,  Reinhard's  sermons 
produce  their  legitimate  effects  upon  the  heart,  and  any 
are  left  to  rejoice  at  his  lengthened  activity,  the  name  of 
Ernestine  Reinhard  and  her  domestic  devotion  will  be 
mentioned  vvitli  reverence  and  gratitude. 

But  here  we  must  draw  this  imperfect  account  to  a  close 
and  take  our  leave  of  Reinhard  and  the  reader.  We 
might  indeed  dwell  longer  upon  his  character  with  delight, 
but  time  and  space  forbid.  '  What  has  been  said  respect- 
ing him,'  says  Bottiger  in  the  preface  to  the  work  from 
which  most  of  the  preceding  account  has  been  taken,  '  has 
been  drawn  from  the  most  authentic  sources.  1  have  been 
intimate))  acquainted  with  him  since  1804,  and  have  consci- 
entiously endeavored  to  exhibit  him  as  he  appeared  tome. 
He  was  indeed  a  man  and  doubtless  sometimes  erred,  but  I 
have  never  discovered  a  secret  fault  in  him,  and  half  of 
Europe  acknowledges  his  excellence  as  a  Christian  and  a 
scholar.  With  him  theory  and  practice  were  united.  He 
had  not  two  coats  or  two  faces,  one  for  private  life  and  an- 
other for  the  public.  He  did  not  speak  every  thing  he 
thought,  but  he  always  thought  as  he  spake,  and  was  con- 
sistent in  his  convictions  and  actions,  until  death.  His 
most  bitter  enemies  have  never  suspected  him  of  being  in- 
fluenced by  selfishness,  and  all  my  acquaintance  w  ith  him 
goes  to  prove  what  I  hope  has  already  been  rendered  ap- 
parent, that  his  activity  did  not  originate  in  ambition,  but  in 
the  most  conscientious  zeal  for  the  cause  of  God  and  the 
good  of  man.' 

He  was  distinguished  for  wonderful  activity  and  genuine 

. « 

*  He  has  erected  a  public  memorial  to  her  care  and  assiduity  in  watching 
over  him  while  he  was  confined  in  Chemnitz  m  1803,  during-  which  painful  sea- 
son, she  was  his  only  nurse,  day  and  night.    See  Jahrg.  1804,  Pred.  I.  S.  16. 


164  reinhard's 

piety,  a  cliildlike  goodness  and  amiableiiess  of  heart,  as  any 
one  must  be  convinced  who  has  attended  to  what  has  been 
said  respecting  l)in[i, — was  always  mild  towards  oihers  but 
severe  towards  himself,  and  marked  with  genuine  humility. 
True  Christian  feeling  pervaded  his  very  soul.  He  resem- 
bled John  in  love,  and  Paul  in  zeal  and  firmness.  A  sin- 
cere minister  he  used  to  say,  must,  like  the  coat  of  Christ, 
be  without  seam  or  patch-work.  He  made  it  his  object 
from  his  earliest  years,  to  exhibit  a  holy  and  just  consistency 
in  acting  according  to  immutable  principles,  and  to  main- 
tain that  uniformity  of  character  through  life,  which  is  so 
much  extolled  by  Cicero.  Hence,  he  was  utterly  averse  to 
all  half  measures  whether  in  great  things  or  small,  even  in 
improving  the  liturgy  ;  firmly  opposed  those  notions  which 
make  virtue  a  periodical  concern  graduated  by  the  ther- 
mometer of  effervescing  feelings;  could  not  toleiate  that  pro- 
lixity wliich  creeps  around  duties  and  promises,  and  hated 
inactivity  as  the  very  gate  of  Hades.  Humble  before  God 
and  man,  and  from  his  heart  convinced  of  the  imperfec- 
tion of  all  human  efforts,  his  only  wish  was,  to  work  while 
it  was  day,  and  to  be  found  engaged  in  his  master's  business. 
To  man  the  holy  ardor  of  his  soul  has  ceased  to  glow%  the 
powers  of  his  mind  to  expand.  All  that  was  mortal  of  him 
has  been  conveyed  away  from  the  view  of  weeping  friends 
and  mourning  thousands,  to  the  silent  tomb.  His  sun  has 
ceased  to  shine, but  it  has  gone  out  in  the  surpassing  splendor 
of  the  Sun  of  righteousness.  His  example,  however,  still 
lives  upon  earth,  in  his  own  eloquent  language  we  may  say 
of  him  :  "  Noble  friend  of  truth  and  goodness,  God  has 
called  thee,  but  death  shall  not  stop  thy  influence.  From 
generation  to  generation  shall  the  light  which  thou  hast 
enkindled  and  increased,  stream  forth  in  new  and  more 
brilliant  rays.  From  generation  to  generation  shall  the 
feeling  wliich  thou  hast  excited,  the  virtue  which  thou  hast 
planted,  the  piety  which  thou  hast  cherished,  the  Christian 
love  which  thou  hast  extended  abroad,  remain  rich  and 
inexhaustible  sources  of  blessing  to  mankind,  and  continue 
to  exert  their  benign,  their  hallowed  influence,  when  thy 
name  has  faded  from   the  world."* 

*  Jahrg.  1801,  Th.  I.  S.  449,  This  passage  was  repeated  at  the  solemniza- 
^on  of  Reli.liard's  death  in  Chemnitz,  Dec. '20,  1812,  and  produced  a  visible 
effect.  It  is  from  Mark  16.  14—20,  and  treats  of  the  salutary  influence  whicb 
should  he  e>;erted  by  Chrisliaus  upon  earth  alter  their  death. 


U    J  '  " 


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